UnExpected
by Amerie0227
Summary: WizardingWorldSeriesStory1-Home is the place where when you have to go there, they have to take you in-right? At least that's what Buffy had hoped, but when she returned to the Wizarding World she had left it wasn't exactly all proverb-y as she had liked
1. Chapter 1

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

Disclaimer: Don't own anything but the story.

Time line: Fifth year in Potterverse, and after the second season in Buffyverse.

Notes: There will be spoilers. Buffy is fifteen in this, and the whole Angel losing his soul thing will be explained.

* * *

Everything had fallen apart. Her friends were hurt. Her mother had kicked her out. And she had murdered the man she loved. There was nothing left now. Nowhere to turn without a stabbing pain flowing through her heart. She hadn't felt like this since . . . well let's just say it's been a while. 

Walking down the street she tried not the let excruciating reminder of why the world kept on turning, with its blue skies and golden sun, keep her from breaking down. There would be time for that later. Right now all she wanted to do was get away.

She stood still, watching the house she had called home for the past two years loom over her. Wondering if after this moment she was ever going to see it again. Ever walk through the front door and be welcomed by her mother with open arms. The tears began to stray down her cheeks, and sniffling she wiped them away. She didn't have time for that now. She needed to get in and out before there was a chance she would change her mind.

Climbing up the familiar tree, she made her destination. Hopping off the last branch she jumped onto the sloped roof that would lead to her bedroom, grateful she had left the window open. Not a very smart move in a town like this, but the last few days haven't exactly given her time to think straight.

Stepping through the window she straightened herself once she was fully in the room. A room that wasn't as empty as she thought it would be.

Sitting on her bed with a cup of coffee in her hands her mother watched her in a mixture of sadness and exhaustion. She looked as though she hadn't slept all night, wearing the same clothes as the day before was pretty much a dead give away.

Buffy didn't move an inch. Waiting for her mother to be the first to speak.

They tried, boy did they try, but it just wasn't in the cards. Joyce Summers worked hard at it but it seems the fates had other ideas. It was a rough adjustment at first, but eventually they were able to. Now everything had changed with Buffy's confession and she knew what they had to do.

"I think it's time we go back," she said.

The world fell off her shoulders and Buffy breathed in relief. That was the answer she had been looking for. Shifting from one foot the other she wrung her hands.

"W-when?" she stuttered, hoping it would be soon.

"Tomorrow."

The tears welled themselves up again and Joyce couldn't take it. Rushing to her daughter she wrapped the broken girl in her arms as she cried.

"Mom I'm sorry . . . I'm so sorry," she sniffled in between cries.

"I know baby . . . I know."

Stroking her head lovingly Joyce comforted her daughter. Hoping that taking her back all the damage could be repaired.

* * *

Closing the suitcase with a final snap Buffy looked around her now empty room. They were all packed and ready to go. Buffy had written letters to Giles, Willow and Xander explaining the situation. Leaving it in their mailboxes in the early morning hours. They would be hurt and angry with her leaving, but she couldn't take being here anymore. She didn't want to be the Slayer she wanted to be Buffy again. 

However she did worry for their safety, but she knew they would be fine. They had patrolled with her so many times that they might be able to have their own routine. Besides they would be getting a new slayer soon. After all Kendra was . . . dead, and that meant a new slayer would be called. Hopefully someone that loved to be the Chosen One, and lived for the fight. Because all of Buffy's had been gone.

"You ready?"

Turning around she saw her mother at the doorway, trunk beside her.

"Yeah," she answered.

Walking over her mother embraced her in a tight hug.

"Don't worry honey its all gonna be ok," she said.

Pulling out slightly she smiled down at Buffy and gave her a loving kiss on the forehead.

"Come on, we should get going," her mother advised.

Nodding she picked up her trunk and headed downstairs. Looking around the empty house, she finally admitted that it never really felt like home. It was just a place to sleep and eat. Something to shield them from the rain.

"You still remember right?" Joyce asked her.

"It's only been three years mom," she responded.

"Well I just wanted to make sure. Don't want you ending up in some dark alley," she smiled at Buffy rolling her eyes. "Here why don't you go first."

Handing her the bag Buffy reached in and grabbed a handful. Doing the appropriate rituals, she stepped into the gateway. Smiling reassuringly at her mother, she grabbed onto her trunk tightly.

"Number Twelve Grimmauld place," she ordered, and with a blink amongst the dancing green flames Buffy was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

Note: Some things are going to change, after all this is a fanfiction, so don't expect everything to be just like the books, or the show. So before anyone gets all huffy remember I did warn you :) And p.s. this isn't going to be as dark as my other one. It's going to be a little on the lighter side. Maybe an ounce or two.

* * *

Hello, good to see you, how have you been? These are the normal ways to be greeted, and the friendliest. Very unlike the one Buffy received when she stepped out of the fireplace. Instead what she did receive was a threatening wand to the face. 

"Slayer," he growled.

Stretching to her full height–which wasn't much–she grabbed her wand and pointed it at her attacker in a flash.

"Werewolf," she smirked.

They were at a stand off. Eyes firm and wands ready to fire. Smiling the man lowered his wand and opened his arms.

"Hello Buffy."

"Hi Remus," she grinned, lowering her own weapon and running into his embrace.

"I've missed you," he said into her hair.

"I've missed you too."

Remus had found out about her being a slayer just days after she herself had discovered the news. She needed to tell someone, and he was the only person she could turn to. He understood what it was like to keep a darker part of yourself a secret. To have this whole other life when the sun went down, and doing your best to protect those you loved the most by keeping them away from it. And as much as he hated to keep the secret from her mother, he gave Buffy his word and so far had yet to break it.

The flames in the fireplace flickered and soon Joyce Summers stepped out of the opening, only to be greeted by her daughter and Remus secured in a tight hug.

"I'm starting to feel a little left out," she commented.

Breaking apart Remus walked over to her. "Joyce," he greeted.

"It's been a long time Moony," she said in relief.

Smiling they embraced each other, reveling in the comfort of familiarity. Pulling apart he gave her a soft kiss on the crown of her head.

"Hungry?" he asked the two females.

"Starved," Buffy answered.

Leading them down the corridor Remus held open the door as they walked into the kitchen.

"Well, well, well look what the werewolf dragged in," a smooth voice drawled out.

Coming from an opposite doorway, a tall man with dark hair and what appeared to be gray eyes sauntered into the room.

"Always the charmer aren't you Sirius," Joyce teased.

"Only when it comes to you luv," he winked.

Practically running Joyce Summers threw herself into Sirius's arms.

"How long has it been?" she asked, still not releasing herself from his entanglement.

"Too long," he whispered thickly.

Buffy looked up at Remus, and he smiled sensing the girl's uneasiness. Clearing his throat to break up the reunion, he hoped they would take the hint. They did.

Turning to look at her daughter Joyce smiled sheepishly at their actions. Sirius always managed to bring out the teenage girl in her.

"Buffy, honey, there's someone I'd like you to meet," she said gesturing for her daughter to come closer.

"It wouldn't be the man you threw yourself at just a few seconds ago now would it?" she asked cheekily.

Joyce gave her that mom look as Buffy walked to the pair, and even managed to shoot one at Sirius as he chuckled. Quickly shutting the wizard up.

"Buffy this is Sirius Black, Sirius this is my daughter Buffy," she introduced, tucking away a stray hair from her daughters face and smiling warmly.

"Lovely too meet you Buffy. Your mother's told me a lot about you," he said shaking her outstretched hand before releasing it.

"Ditto on the first one, and only a little on the second," she responded.

"Ashamed of me Joyce?" Sirius teased.

"Embarrassed actually," she grinned.

Snickering at her response Sirius turned back to Buffy and analyzed her with a critical eye.

"So you're the slayer?" he asked.

Buffy quickly snapped her eyes to her mother. "You told him?"

"I didn't say a word," she defended.

"That'd be me actually," Remus confessed stepping to the trio.

"Because he did," Joyce added.

"And the perfectly valid excuse being?" Buffy expected.

"Stupidity," he excused.

He may be older, and a werewolf, and a wizard, but Remus Lupin was smart enough to know when Buffy was angry you'd better be quick to apologize.

"It's not he's fault really. I overheard a conversion they were having at the fireplace the day before. To be fair he did try to cover it up. Said your mum didn't say slayer but slave, and well that didn't turn out very well," he chuckled.

"At least I tried," Remus shrugged.

"Don't worry your secret's safe with me," Sirius winked.

"Well . . . " Buffy looked around unsurely biting her lower lip. "Guess there's nothing I can do about that now, but you have to promise that this tiny bit of information doesn't leave the room."

Raising his left arm and putting his right hand over his chest Sirius spoke, "I solemnly swear not to reveal the secret identity of one Miss Buffy Summers do to the penalty of-"

"Death," Buffy imputed firmly, in a complete no nonsense attitude. Joyce and Remus grinning behind her when they noticed Sirius's squirming.

Not liking that look on her face, he gulped. "Death," he finished, lowering his limbs and smiling shakily.

"Well now that Sirius has been properly initiated why don't we get something to eat eh?" Remus suggested.

"I vote for that," Joyce spoke.

"Me too," Buffy agreed.

"Great now if you ladies would take a seat I'm sure I can whip up something," Sirius gallantly informed them, pulling out two chairs.

"You? Cook?" Joyce asked in disbelief.

"I can hold my own," he stood up for his skills.

"He's terrible," Remus spilled, gaining a glare from his best friend.

Sighing loudly Joyce turned away from the group and headed for the stove.

"I better stir something up before you burn down the place," she said.

"I'll have you know I'm actually quite capable in a kitchen," Sirius defended walking after her.

"You can't even spell kitchen," she jabbed.

"I can spell domineering," he retorted.

Feet away Buffy stared at them curiously, and Remus looked on in utter amusement as the couple kept on bickering.

"Are they always like this?" she whispered.

"No, sometimes they argue," he grinned.

Smiling back, the pair then turned to watch as Joyce and Sirius rained hell and high water on the kitchen.

* * *

"How are you handling it?" Remus asked, setting a cup of tea in front of Joyce before taking a seat across from her. 

Night had arrived and Buffy was upstairs getting some much needed sleep. But Joyce couldn't sleep. Yesterday she had found out that her only child was a slayer. A creature destined for death. A parent's worse nightmare.

"If you were me how would you be handling it?" she asked softly.

"Not as well as you are, I can tell you that," he answered.

"Yes well I didn't handle it well at first. The things I said to her . . . how I made her feel." Her voice was thick with unshed tears.

"It's not your fault. You reacted badly yes, but who wouldn't in your position," Sirius comforted.

"I just can't help but feeling . . . if I hadn't been waiting for her in her bedroom that morning I might've never seen her again," she confessed.

Reaching across the table Remus gave her hand a comforting squeeze. Trying not to let the guilt show in his eyes that he had kept Buffy's secret for so long. And would continue to keep silent on the fact that he did for as long as possible.

"But you did. And she's here with you, with us," he said.

Nodding slowly she lifted her tea cup and took a sip.

"What are you going to do now?" Sirius asked her.

"I don't know. There's only one option really," she answered setting down the china.

"You're going to send her back to Hogwarts," he deduced.

"There isn't really much of a choice in that," Joyce responded. "She needs to finish school. I should've never had pulled her out in the first place."

"You were afraid, it was perfectly reasonable," Remus said.

"I know, but the reason why I did it in the first place doesn't even compare to the fear I have for her now."

"It was different back then. Buffy's a different girl now. She's stronger and more capable of handling herself," Sirius reminded her.

"I know, but I guess . . . a mother never stops worrying you know?"

"I know," Sirius answered her, lifting the tea to his lips. "I can't wait until I become a mother," he said before taking a sip.

The other two occupants laughed and shook their heads at the quick-witted man.

"Just don't ask me to be in the delivery room. I want to be surprised when it's my turn," Remus responded, earning himself his very own pair of chuckles.

"So when are you going to Dumbledore?" Padfoot asked.

"Not for a few weeks. I heard the Tri-Wizard Tournament is going on and I know he has his hands full at the moment."

"Stupid Tournament. I can't believe Dumbledore and Crouch let Harry participate in the insipid thing," Sirius complained.

He had written a letter to Joyce explaining the situation and she was right up there on the angry ladder with him. Harry was only fourteen and they still let him participate in the dangerous game. Binding contract her fanny. There had to be reason why the boy was picked. Things like that don't just happen.

"He'll be all right. Harry's got a good head on his shoulders and he's an excellent wizard. He'll be fine. Who knows he might even win the thing," Remus imparted.

Scoffing Sirius swallowed his anger along with a large amount of tea. The other two looking warily at each other knowing how violent the man could get when he was angry.

"Well its getting late and I think I should head off to bed and pray to get at least a wink of sleep tonight," Joyce announced rising from the seat. "Good night gentlemen."

"Good night," came the twin responses.

Waiting until she was out of earshot Remus turned to the other man.

"They'll be okay right?"

"Yeah they'll be okay," he nodded. "They're Summers women. And if I know anything, it's that Summers women are the toughest in the world."

Smiling Remus lifted his cup ready to take a drink.

"No argument there," he responded.

Mirroring the action Sirius did the same, before long both men sat in silence wondering what exactly was going on at the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and if they would ever get to see Harry Potter alive again.

* * *

Note: Thanks for the reviews, hope you like the story as much as the other one :) 


	3. Chapter 3

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

The sound of waves crashing and rolling spread across the deserted beach. A clear blue sky hovering above homed seagulls squawking as they flew amongst the scape. Why hadn't she come here before? The sereneness helped to ease the tension of so many toss-turning, if not sleepless, nights. She wafted through the sand, enjoying a gentle breeze that blew past her as she made her way closer to the shoreline.

She felt him even before her natural senses were aware of him. Soon his arms slowly wrapped around her, and she leaned into him, covering his arms with her own. Taking in the comfort she had been seeking for so long. The smell of him invading her nose and his skin engulfing her in warmth. She raised her hand to his face, needing to feel him as much as possible.

"How did you find me here?"

"If I was I blind I could see you," his voice caressed her. Healing part of the still open wounds.

She lowered her hand and rested it over his once more. Embracing his arms tightly over her. Needing the secureness he offered.

"Stay with me," she pleaded. He had been gone too long and she couldn't bare the thought of him leaving.

"Always. That's the whole point. I'll never leave." He leaned in closer and whispered lovingly in her ear. "Not even if you kill me."

Buffy's eyes snapped open frantically. Her confused mind trying to decipher where she was exactly. There was a dresser across from her, and a window next to her bed. The past few weeks coming back to her in an instant. Sighing and blinking away the tears that had gathered throughout the night, she threw off her covers and rose from the bed. Glancing at the clock beside her she realized it was almost Seven a.m. She grumbled lowly under her breath, any possibility of going back to sleep was not happening. Drowsily she made her way to the bathroom ready to start another uneventful day, trying her best to forget that nightmares that plagued her.

Stepping out minutes later, she quickly changed and began to make her way to her mother's room. Knocking on her door she waited until she was given the free and clear, but seconds passed without a welcome. Hoping she wouldn't walk in on anything 'unmom-like' she opened the door and searched the space, but her room was empty.

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and she was about to walk deeper into the room, but stopped when she heard voices. Ones that could only be picked up by slayer hearing. Closing the door behind her she padded her way down the corridors and down the stairs. Following the unseen trail of three distinct voices that were coming from the kitchen.

"How's he handling it?" The concerned voice of her mother wafted through the closed door.

"Not too well I'm afraid. He's completely distraught over the situation," Sirius's deep voice answered.

Walking closer she was about to lean her ear against the wood to pick up the voices more clearly, when it suddenly flew open.

"It's not very polite to eaves drop," Remus smiled.

"Said the man with the werewolf hearing," Buffy retorted. Reminding him of his own advantage.

"Buffy what are you doing up so early?" Joyce asked in concern. Buffy had been sleeping in the past few weeks. No doubt catching up on some much robbed rest.

"Some noise woke me up, couldn't go back to sleep," she lied, walking into the room and taking a seat beside her mother.

Joyce knew she was lying. Buffy had been having nightmares for the past few weeks. She would often sneak into her daughter's bedroom at night to assure herself that she was okay, and noticed her tossing and turning on more than one occasion. But she let it pass, Buffy had been through so much already.

"What were you guys talking about?"

The three grownups looked around not sure if they should tell her, but knew that with the eventual press the news was going to receive there was no point in hiding it.

"Something happened at the Tri-Wizard Tournament last night," Sirius eased her in.

Her mind went on immediate alert. Harry was in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. She knew how dangerous the competitions could be. Sirius and Remus had told her stories of some of the perils that had occurred while one participated.

"What?" she asked, forcing her voice to remain calm.

"It seems that one of the chosen champions died while participating in the third task," her mother informed her.

"Who?" Her heart sped up, but managed to keep her face blank.

"A young lad by the name of Cedric," Sirius gravely answered her.

"Diggory?" she asked.

"You knew him?" Joyce asked in surprise.

"Of him. He was in Hufflepuff. He's . . . he was a good kid."

A small part of her was slightly relieved that it hadn't been the one she feared, but the rest of her was at a loss. She had passed Cedric Diggory in the halls many times while she attended Hogwarts, and never really gave him a second thought. Sure he was cute, and seemed like a great guy, but Buffy wasn't exactly in her right state of mind back then. So, she ignored him and treated him like she treated everyone else. Now, she mentally cringed at that fact. If only she knew now what she knew then, maybe it would've been different.

"How did he die?" she asked. The slayer in her always wary of any death.

"Honey maybe you shouldn't-" her mother imposed.

"Mom. We've talked about this," Buffy firmly stopped her. They had gone over her life as a slayer. The dangers she had faced and survived. She needed her mother to see her in a new light, one that proved the fact that Buffy, much to Joyce's dismay, was no longer a child.

"All right, I suppose it's better that you hear it from us," Joyce sadly relented, knowing how the news would affect her.

Taking her daughter's hand within her own, she looked Buffy straight in the eye. Giving Buffy a heightened sense of bad news to come. Glancing quickly to the two men in the room, she noticed their not so convincing 'everything's okay' looks, and that didn't really help the dread she was feeling.

"Buffy," she eased. "He's back. Voldemort's back."

Her eyes widened drastically and Buffy felt the room spin.

"H-how?" Her voice coming out breathless and shaky.

No one really wanted to relay the information of what happened. They were still shaken about the news themselves, but she had to now. So, Remus braved it for her.

"During the last task, Harry and Cedric were transported to a cemetery by portkey. Voldemort had rigged the Tournament so that Harry would be the one to reach the Cup, but didn't count on the pact both boys had made to share the glory. So, unfortunately when they arrived Voldemort had ordered Peter Pettigrew to kill Cedric instantly, then Peter performed some dark magicks using Harry's blood to revive Voldemort. They dueled for a moment before Harry was finally able to escape. Using the same portkey, he was able to bring himself and Cedric's body safely back to Hogwarts. Telling everyone that Voldemort had in fact returned," Remus retold the story Harry had written them. Keeping a close eye on Buffy's reaction, much like Joyce and Sirius.

She squeezed her eyes shut trying to stop the world from spinning. It was the Master all over again, only this time it was a whole a lot worse. She should've expected it. He had even warned her. Voldemort was back, and she knew he was going to finish what he started.

"I need to get outta here."

She snapped her hand back and rose from her seat, ignoring her mother as she called out her name pleading for her to come back.

"Just let her be. This can't be easy for her," Sirius soothed.

"Maybe it was a mistake bringing her back here," Joyce deflated.

"You couldn't have known that this was going to happen. None of us did, but now that he's back she'll be safer at Hogwarts. She can be protected there," Remus comforted.

Not confident in her voice she only nodded. The tears gathering in her eyes. After everything that they've gone through to erase what had happened to Buffy, it seemed that the fates had other plans in mind. It wasn't fair that they had chosen her for such a cruel destiny, just like it wasn't fair that they had chosen Harry for his. Why is it only the children that get put through so much danger. It was unjust and unkind, and it made her sick. Leave it to a sadistic power hungry psychopath to prey on innocent children.

She didn't know how long she had been running. The people and places blurring as she passed them. Ignoring the questioning glances and curious stares. She pumped her legs until they begged her to stop. Coming to a clearing, she collapsed to her knees on the ground, more from exhaustion than anything else. She leaned forward resting on her outstretched arms trying to regain her lost breath. Regaining her composure, she leaned back on her knees, letting her arms hang limply at her sides. Turning her face up she left the sun warm her face. Letting all she had learned sink in.

"He's back," she softly spoke. Watching as a murder of crows flew above her.

Joyce paced back and forth along the foyer. The sun had set hours ago and Buffy hadn't returned. She may have been a slayer, but Buffy was in no state to confront an evil wizard if he came to find her. The sound of the knob startled her out of the many grave scenarios running through her mind. Her heart stopping as she waited for the door to open.

Before she even past the threshold Buffy found herself being nearly hugged to death. If Buffy didn't know any better, she would've sworn her mother had slayer strength.

"Mom . . . air," she struggled out.

"Oh honey, I've been so worried," Joyce apologized, releasing her so she could step safely back into the house. "Are you okay? Where did you go? You were gone all day. How can you just run out like that? Don't you know how dangerous it is to dot that right now?"

"Mom, breathe," Buffy advised. At least she knew where she got her rambling from. "I'm fine. I just went for a walk, and then some little vamp therapy."

"Buffy how can-" She was in the beginnings of a very firm lecture, but then she remembered Sunnydale. The last time Joyce had spoken without thought had led Buffy out of the house and almost out of her life. She wasn't going to let that happen again, so she forced herself to calm down and give Buffy the benefit of the doubt. "Are you ok?" she asked calmly.

"I'm fine. See, no permanent damage." Buffy twirled around making her point. "You should've seen the other guys though. Except you can't cause– they're pretty much dust now."

"Oh, honey. I'm just so relived you're okay," she imparted, going in for one more hug.

"I'm fine, mom."

Physically she was okay, mentally was still up for grabs, but she couldn't tell her mother that. She needed to put on a brave face, just like she had been for the past three years. There was no use in worrying her mother about something that was her problem. Buffy would learn to deal, because it was the only thing she knew how to do.

"Well it looks like Goldie Locks will live to fight another day," Sirius spoke, breaking the two women apart.

"You were worried and you know it," Buffy teased him, falling back into the 'world's almost ending but I found a shiny new penny' state of mind.

"Well maybe just a little," he smiled.

"See, I knew you loved me," she grinned walking to the kitchen.

"I wouldn't go that far," Sirius shot back, falling in to step behind her.

"But you never said you didn't," Buffy's voice faded away.

Joyce stood in her spot as she watched them. A whimsical smile on her face. Remus and Sirius were right. Buffy was a different girl now, so unlike the girl she was three years ago. She had handled so much in her young life, and it had only made her stronger for it. Joyce only prayed that the strength would be able to hold her through the dark times that were ahead.

* * *

Note: Just want to remind everyone that Buffy is fifteen in this, so there will be no confusion :) 


	4. Chapter 4

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

"Buffy will you please hurry it up. We're going to be late!" Joyce hollered from the entrance hall.

"I'm coming!" Buffy responded from somewhere upstairs.

"If I didn't know any better I could've sworn that girl was making her clothes instead of changing them," she grumbled to Remus.

The werewolf was about to respond when loud screeches burst throughout the house.

"Now you've done it," Remus sighed.

"I've forgotten all about that old crone. Surprised she hasn't screamed a word since we've been here," said Joyce, throwing a disapproving glance up the stairs.

"To be fair we've been rather quiet the past weeks," he reminded her.

"Yeah," she mumbled.

Now that the sleeping dragon had awakened Joyce made no conscious attempt to not holler once more for her daughter. Her patience was wearing thin. They had a meeting with Dumbledore in ten minutes, and Buffy was acting as though they had all the time in the world. Just as she was about to call out once more, she heard footsteps running down the stairway. Then stopping for a second. The next thing they heard were muffled words and shouting before the blood curling screeching stopped. The pair watching curiously as Buffy made her way to the foyer with a bright smile on her face.

"What?" she asked, wondering why they were looking at her as though she had grown wings.

"What did you say to her?" Remus inquired, who wasn't able to pick up the words clearly due to Mrs. Black's screaming.

"Words I'm not allowed to say in front of my mother," she grinned sweetly, as Remus chuckled.

Rolling her eyes at the 'maturity,' Joyce made her way beside Buffy.

"Buffy, what in Merlin's name took you so long?" she asked. Analyzing her daughter's attire of black pants and cream-colored sweater set.

"Didn't know what to wear," she shrugged.

"How long will you be gone?" Remus asked them. Trying his best to keep his lips from quirking and irritating Joyce any further.

"As long as it takes I suppose, but I'm sure it won't be too long," she informed him.

"How are we getting there?" Buffy asked.

"I'm going to apparate us just outside the wards, and we'll walk the rest of the way," she instructed. "Are you ready?"

"All set." She nodded firmly, before she turned to Remus. "Don't miss me too much okay, and tell Snuggles not worry. We'll be back before he knows it."

"You are aware that he detests it when you call him that don't you?" he grinned.

"I know. Hence the fun," she winked.

"Less than six weeks and they've already rubbed off on each other," Joyce mumbled under breath, but quickly realizing who she was in the presence of– and their supernatural advantages– she cleared her throat and tried to ignore their teasing smiles. "Yes well I think its time to go. We'll be back soon okay. And don't let Sirius anywhere near that stove until I come back," she scolded.

"Yes ma'am," he saluted in mocking.

They waved one final time before popping out off the house, followed by another pop announcing Kreacher's irritating presence.

"Where has Mistress Buffy gone?" his deep and hoarse voice demanded.

"To Hogwarts, she'll be back in a little while," he responded somewhat annoyed.

The house-elf glared at him in distaste one last time before popping off to places unknown. Remus had no clue as to how Buffy managed to get on the creatures good side, but if it got him out of his hair he wasn't about to question it.

* * *

All of her memories came flooding back. She craned her neck to take in as much of the structure as her vision allowed. Noting the proudness and wonders it held within its stone walls. This was home. It was what she had been missing all those years. The laughter and loudness echoing in her mind of the wonderful times she had spent in this place, and now she was coming home. Back to Hogwarts. 

Joyce watched as the light in Buffy's eyes began to rekindle. Her face positively glowing. She remembered when Buffy was just a little girl and would send her owl after owl, telling her of all the great times she had spent in this place. Then having her pouting all the summers she had to spend away from it. Now Buffy was finally coming back to the place she adored the most.

"Do you still remember?" Joyce asked, referring to the ins and outs of the castle.

"Like it were yesterday," she softly responded.

Smiling gently at the happiness in her daughter's voice, she turned back to building. "Come one we better head inside. Dumbledore's waiting for us."

If the outside had caused Buffy to space, than the inside had put her in semipermanent fixation. Her eyes were wide as she took in all that was her memories coming back to life. The portraits, the corridors, the stairways. Joyce had to lead her by the hand the entire way to the Headmaster's office, knowing that if she left Buffy to walk there on her own she would still be standing in the entrance.

They finally reached the stone gargoyle leading to Dumbledore's sanctuary, and as soon as Buffy caught sight of it she immediately snapped out of her daze.

"Can I?" she asked in giddy. It had been a long time since Buffy had ordered the statue to move aside.

"Go ahead," her mother approved. Loving the way Buffy had reverted back to her childlike enthusiasm.

"Peppermint Toads," she ordered.

Slowly the gargoyle groaned to the side allowing them full entry. Grinning, the two women made their way through the opening, hopping onto the 'escalator' that will lead them to Dumbledore. Arriving at the oak door, Joyce was about to grab the griffin knocker, when the wood slowly pried open.

"Buffy, Ms. Summers how lovely it is to see you again," Dumbledore greeted as they entered the office.

"It's good to see you too Profe-" She stopped shortly when he raised his finger in reminder. "Albus," she finished, still feeling odd in calling her old professor by his first name.

"That's better," he smiled warmly, then turning his attention to the girl next to Joyce. "Ms. Summers, it's been a long time hasn't it?"

"Too long," she honestly replied.

"Let me have a look at you." He stepped closer to her and gently placed both outstretched hands on her arms. "You are definitely a sight to see. You've grown into such a beautiful young woman."

Buffy tried not to blush from his compliments, but when she felt her cheeks grow hot, she knew she had failed.

"Thank you," she meekly responded.

His eyes twinkled at he took in her changes. He knew just by looking at her that she was no longer that little girl he had known years ago. She carried herself differently, yet with the same confidence she refused to let die down. But she looked so much older now. She wasn't that tiny girl running around worrying about . . . well that doesn't matter now. The young lady before him held maturity, but still held a sweetness in her eyes that reminded you of how vulnerable she can still be.

"Well let's get this meeting started shall we," he advised.

He guided them to the two chairs before his desk, before swiftly taking his own.

"Before we begin, I must tell you that Sirius and Remus have informed me that you are aware of Voldemort's return," he solemnly spoke. He noted the– blink and you miss it– worry in Buffy's eyes. He was about to ask her about her feelings toward the news, but dismissed it when he saw the look on her face that made it clear that she didn't want to discuss it. "The Ministry refuses to believe it, but of course we know better. We don't know what's ahead but must brace ourselves for the worst. I need to know Ms. Summers if the Dark Lord's unfortunate return will in any way disrupt your studies?"

Her studies? Her life was more like it, but she knew what he was getting it. What would be the point of coming back when she'd only end up failing because Voldemort had seeped into her worries.

"No, sir," she replied firmly. If she was able to balance her life as a slayer, and a witch, and a normal Sunnydale high school student before coming back, she can definitely handle this.

"That's good to her," he said rather proudly. "Now then, that brings us to my next point. You've gone the past three years without a proper magical education. If you were to attend the upcoming school term that means that you would be placed in Fifth Year. Meaning you will need to be caught up on the years you had missed. Now I've spoken to Remus and he has agreed to tutor if you chose to continue, but I need to know if you will be able to handle the workload. Of course if you are not able to we can either wait until you have been, which means skipping a year, or place you in a year below. Now, I'm asking which would you rather prefer?"

There was no way Buffy was going to wait a year before coming back. She had already been gone too long. Being held back a year didn't look good either. It would be bad enough that she would appear out of the blue after being AWOL for so long. Sunnydale was bad with rumors, but compared to this place, it put the high school to shame. No, the only option is to suck it up and get her studying on. This wasn't like a muggle school, which she had struggled with. Magic was easier to pick up. It comes from inside you and all you have to do was channel it out the right way. It had nothing to do with learning facts and numbers, which no matter how hard she tried, never seemed to stick. There was no other option but the right one.

"I want to attend the upcoming school term as a Fifth year," she steadily voiced.

"Honey, are you sure? That's a lot of work to catch up on. Are you sure you'll be able to handle it?" her mother asked in worry.

"Mom, I can do it. I mean I have Remus to teach me, and you and Snuggles to help out. I know I can do this," Buffy firmly stated.

She was wavering but Joyce knew that when Buffy set her mind to something she was more than able to achieve it.

"All right," she agreed, turning to face the Headmaster again. "Buffy has my permission to attend the new term as a Fifth year."

"Excellent," he rejoiced. "Now, lets get you sorted."

"Sorted? Don't I get to go back to my old house?" she questioned. Both women confused at the turn of events.

"You've been gone for more than two years Buffy. A lot can change about a person in that time span, and I don't need to be told that you are in fact not the same girl you were when you left. Don't worry I'm positive the Sorting Hat will put you where it feels you belong the most." He had that twinkle in his eye, which made her a little wary.

"O-ok, I guess . . . I mean there's really nothing I can do about it," she gave in.

"Don't worry, it'll all work out," he smiled.

Taking the hat, which wasn't there a second ago, from his desk he motioned for Buffy to lean forward. Slightly grimacing at the idea of putting the old thing over her head, she waited for it to be firmly in place, and the undeniable voice that was to come. Soon the conversation in her head began.

'Mmm . . . let's see what we have here . . . Oh, Ms. Summers welcome back, hope you're feeling better . . . '

'Can you just, you know, move it along' she pushed, hoping the hat would take the hint.

'Not eager to talk about that huh? . . . let's see where to place you . . . hmm well now this is a hard one . . . you've changed so much since the last time we met . . . where to put you? . . . Your old house? No, that won't do . . . you're not like them anymore . . . such a different girl now . . . such different qualities you've gained . . . this is a surprise . . . there is only place to put you . . . I say . . . '


	5. Chapter 5

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

"Is she still sulking up there?" Sirius asked, casting a glance up from the kitchen.

"Unfortunately," said Joyce.

"She can't be that upset about it. The house--" he continued.

"It's not the house. It's the people. She was looking forward to going back to her old house, with her old friends. At first she was just worried that they might give her the cold shoulder for a few days, but now . . . she said they would consider it as crossing over to the other side. Like she was betraying them," she informed him, relaying what Buffy had grumpily explained after she tried convincing her it wasn't so bad.

"That's understandable. It's not hard to remember how competitive the houses had been toward each other, especially those two," Remus reminded them.

"True enough, but she'll be all right. From what you've told me, she was never one to follow the crowd," Sirius shrugged.

"It still amazes me how've you managed to gain so much confidence in her, after only knowing her such a short amount of time," Joyce admired.

"It's hard not to. After hearing all her stories of what's she's had to face every night of her young life, it makes a person believe she can face anything. Besides she's had one of the strongest women that I know as a role model," he admitted.

Joyce blushed at the compliment, and Remus had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. They were being as obvious as a Hippogriff in a china shop. It was a shame they never had the true chance to explore those feelings. Sirius had stalled too long, and Joyce had moved on. To a bastard of man who had left the two women for an assistant at the Ministry, where Hank had been working in the Archives Department, just when Buffy had turned thirteen. They hadn't heard from him since, but knew they were in the tropics somewhere. But in his opinion they were better off. Hank was never much of a supportive father after discovering what had occurred in Hogwarts. He was afraid of going near his own daughter. Distancing himself from her as much as possible, meaning working late hours at the office, leading up to the inevitable. But now looking at the pair before him, with their secret smiles and fleeting looks, it may be that Hank's selfish act was really just a blessing in disguise.

Upstairs Buffy was laying on her bed, still pouting over the news. Her stomach tied up in knots over the upcoming school year that was just weeks away. She should've known it wouldn't have been so easy as to just walk through those entrance doors and pretend everything was back to normal. Now, it wasn't only going to be uncomfortable; it was going to be a disaster. She remembered being a kid and looking over at their table, wrinkling her noise at how they behaved. Thinking they were so noble and better than everyone else. That was of course back then, and everything was different now. She was different, as the Hat so lovingly pointed out. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. She might even get along with a few of them. Groaning loudly she flopped onto her stomach and huffed. Who was she kidding? It was going to be nothing but a bitca of a year, and she knew it.

* * *

The next two-weeks Buffy could've sworn her brain had been slowly leaking out of her ears. Remus was hell bent on getting her caught up as soon as possible, meaning every minute of every day, when she wasn't sleeping, was spent studying. Even on the night when Remus had caught the full moon disease, as he liked to put it, Sirius had taken over. At first she believed that to be a stroke of luck, after all Sirius was Mr. Relax Guy, the cool one (something she'd never admit while Remus was around), but oh how wrong she was. Sirius was nothing more than a dictator in disguise. Pushing her almost as hard as Remus had been. What was it with these people getting her to achieve her full potential. Who does that?

The days wore on again with the same old mind-bending routine, until the day Buffy was finally given a short relief. One that she would have traded for more studying in a second. Her mother had decided that it was time to leave. To go back to the house they had abandoned when they moved to the States. Buffy had practically begged her to change her mind, but Joyce reminded her that she would be starting school soon and staying at a place that wasn't supposed to exist anymore, since it had been put under the Fidelius Charm by Dumbledore, might arouse suspicions. Ones that would put Sirius's life at risk, and that one little piece of information was the shotgun that blew away her end of the argument.

So now they stood in what had been Buffy's bedroom for the past weeks. The girl had taken her sweet time packing, her reasons obvious, but now both of them were packed and ready to go. Looking sadly with their trunks in each hand facing the two men they adored the most.

"So, I guess this is it," Joyce said near tears.

"Not it's not. It's not even close. It's only temporary until you get settled in and stop by. You know what happens when I'm left to my own devices. Might burn the house down or something," Sirius tried to joke his way through his own feelings.

"You're right. It just won't be the same that's all," she admitted sadly.

"I know, but at least you'll have Moony stopping by every once in a while. He's still got Buffy's tutoring to finish," he reminded them. "And we all know how long that's going to take."

Sirius quickly moved to the side when he noticed the little blonde slayer aiming for him. Learning from past experience that her hits were a little more painful than he had anticipated.

"Really thought you would've learned by now," Remus shook his head.

"Its Sirius, the only time he'll learn is when he's laying six feet under, and even then he'll be wondering how he got there," Joyce teased.

"Oh sure pick on the fugitive," Sirius semi pouted.

The statement brought out its desired reaction. Relieving them of the current emotional moment and replacing it with missed laughter. The chuckles soon died down and before she could react Joyce had flung her arms around Sirius's neck, almost exactly like she had on the first day. His arms automatically wound themselves around her, hugging her fiercely. He wanted her to stay, but knew that circumstances wouldn't allow it. He had to let her go once again, except this time he knew that it would only be temporary. A fact he was more than thrilled to be reminded of.

Sniffing she pulled away from him, wiping the remaining stray tears. "Just promise me you won't wreck the kitchen I've spent the last eight weeks cleaning up."

"I promise," Sirius smiled.

"Good cause if she ever finds out you did, she'll come back here and give Mrs. Black a run for her money," Buffy warned him.

"I have no doubts about that."

Grinning broadly she walked to Sirius, of course with less enthusiasm than her mother, and wrapped her arms around him. Hugging each other for a moment before she stepped back and looked him square in the eye.

"Remember owls and fireplaces work both ways," she sternly told him.

"Yes, they do," he said, reminding her of the same.

"Well, now I'm starting to feel a little left out," Remus pouted.

"Don't be such a baby, you're going to see us tomorrow," said Buffy.

"I know, I just wanted some attention," he said, not ashamed of the immaturity at all.

Shaking her head, she turned to Sirius again. "Please take better care of Buckbeak while I'm gone."

"I take very good care of him, have been since before you arrived you know."

"Health wise yes, socially no. He does get lonely sometimes too, you know," she slightly reprimanded him.

"All right, I get your point. I promise to pay him more attention, happy?"

"Very," she grinned.

Silence fell upon the four occupants, not really knowing where to go next. Soon the quiet turned to awkwardness, and the small group hoped someone would disrupt it soon.

"Well . . ." Joyce broke through with a somber tone. "I guess that's that. We should probably get going, no doubt the house is full of dust that'll take days to clean up."

Taking a firm hold of Buffy's hand, the two women looked sadly upon Sirius and Remus.

"We'll try to stop by as soon as we can," Joyce promised.

"Don't try to miss me too much Snuggles," Buffy smiled.

"I'll try not to Goldie Locks," he winked.

They waved sadly one last time before a loud crack was all that was left of them.

"It feels emptier now doesn't it," Sirius sadly pointed out a second later.

He had gotten accustomed to the two women over the past weeks. Their silly mother--daughter bickering. The dinners and lunches they had around the table. Buffy had come to grow on him deeply. She had a quick fire wit that matched his own. It was his only source of entertainment, aside from teasing Joyce that is. Now they were both gone. Leaving him alone to his sanctuary again.

"It won't be empty for long," pointed Remus from his place by the window.

Shaking out of his thoughts he walked over to his friend and looked down at the street below.

"Perfect timing wouldn't you say," Sirius quipped, keeping his eyes on the street, noticing that even in the dark he could make out a large group of redheads making their way toward the door.

* * *

Amongst a field of growing wild flowers stood a stone building that looked very much like it belonged in a fairytale. A grey up sloped roof with its cobblestone chimney glued together the beige bricked walls, which had lost color over the years. Seven windows adorned the front of the house. Two mass outputted windows stood out before the first floor, three smaller glass panes lay flat against the second landing, and on top the roof stood two outstretched windows. A narrow stoned path led up to a soft-red door that stood amongst the structure, the only piece not having lost its color over the years. The entire picture looking very much like a Thomas Kinkade painting.

The house had not been disturbed in three years. So when its owners returned, a cloud of dust was there to greet them. The once shiny interior was covered in a thin layer of gray. Sheets of white covered the furniture, thankfully keeping out the dust, and charms Joyce had put on the house before they left, kept away the unsightly creatures that tended to gather when there was no one to shoo them away, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place a perfect example. Cobwebs littered the corners, and the windows held a fine layer of filth.

"This is going to take me forever to clean up," Joyce mumbled.

"You know if you really need help I can, study later. I mean what kind of witch needs to know charms anyway. If you ask me that's just showing off," Buffy said.

"Nice try," she smirked. "Now upstairs and start studying young lady."

"Mean," she glared and trudged up the steps.

Making the mistake of running her hand up the banister, she pulled a face when she felt moist dust stick to it. Wiping her hand on her jeans, she made a note not to touch anything else. Which she assumed would be until she reached her bedroom, but as soon as she opened the creaking door reality soon caved in. Her entire bedroom mirrored downstairs, down to the cobwebs. Sighing loudly at the mess, she ran hand through her hair. This was not going to work. Pulling out everything she was going to need for studying from her trunk, she tossed them into her book bag and returned downstairs. Walking down the path that would lead her to the kitchen and out the door, she hollered out to her mother along the way.

"Mom, I'm gonna study outside!"

She heard an echoed 'all right honey' just as she stepped through the doorway. Stepping out into the garden Buffy noticed the mass amount of weeds that had erupted over the years. Her mother was not going to like this. She only hoped that garden gnomes hadn't decided to take up residence, but knew they most likely had. She stepped over the stones that led a pathway from the back door to the gazebo. Her eyes wandering over the large oak trees that were used as borders surrounding the massive garden and leading up to end just on either side of the house. It had been a while since Buffy had last laid her eyes on this place, but in some ways it felt like she never left. There was no feeling of nostalgia like there had been at Hogwarts. The house, the gardens, they were all just part of her, and returning to them was like breathing, necessary and natural.

The white framed gazebo stood out amongst the mile high grass. Its frames half filled with glass panes, the other the half with wood, and a small set of steps leading up to the open framed entrance. A small circular desk sat at the middle, metal bars bending upward to connect to the benches that came attached. The table was removable when the occasion called for it, but served its purpose when needed. Setting down her bag she pulled out her books, and writing materials. Clearing out the minor bits of dust that lay on the seats, before making herself comfortable. Looking up toward the ceiling, Buffy hoped that the lanterns were still working. Every part of her mind knowing that she was going to be here long after the sun went down.

* * *

Note: I'm glad you guys are enjoying the story. I was worried that it wouldn't take. Thanks for the reviews, they're really encouraging me to keep writing. 


	6. Chapter 6

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

She crumpled up the letter in her hand and gave a heavy sigh before lighting the thing on fire.

"Is he really sure about this?" Joyce asked the messenger.

"I believe he is," Remus answered.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Buffy pitched in.

"The big deal is that your fifteen, and severely underage," Joyce told her.

"It's only a meeting, mom. It's not exactly horrifying scary danger. Unless you're scared of the big bad words."

Joyce glared at her and went back to Remus. "Why would Dumbledore want her to join in the first place?"

"I think the answer to that is fairly obvious," he replied.

"Because she's the slayer," she sighed.

"He feels that she would be an asset to our side. Even if she is only fifteen," he explained.

"So he doesn't care that she's just a child," Joyce bit out.

"Hey! _She's_, standing right here, and hello! I'm not just a 'child.' I've done a lot in my ripe old age, and I'm glad someone finally realized it," she smugly said.

"I still don't like it," Joyce spoke. "I know you're the slayer, but this is different Buffy."

"Not to me it isn't. It's nothing more than a bunch of people sitting around talking about the Big Bad, something I've become an expert in over the years. It's like a Scooby meeting, except with more people, and a shinier name," Buffy tried convincing her. "I've been doing this for over two years, mom. The only difference is that, instead of talking about vampires and demons who are trying to open up the Hellmouth and bring on the Apocalypse that will end the world, leaving me the only who can stop them, which means facing all kinds of-"

"Okay, okay," Joyce surrendered. "I get it. You're a big girl. You can handle yourself."

Buffy turned excitedly to Remus and smiled. "She was never one to argue against a good ramble."

"I can see that," he grinned. "Just don't tell Sirius about it."

"Are you kidding? Reveal one of my best kept secrets?" she asked looking mildly aghast. "He'll only use it, and then try blaming it on me."

Remus chuckled shortly, and Joyce rolled her eyes heavily to accompany her exasperation.

"I had to introduce them. Couldn't just bring her here. Oh no, had to take her to meet Sirius. I must've been out of my mind," Joyce muttered.

Buffy and Remus watched her in amusement. The two of them slightly wondering how long it would be before they gave her a mental breakdown.

"Should I be worried?" Remus jokingly asked, turning a wary glance to Buffy.

"And she thinks we're the crazy ones," she answered out of the side of her mouth.

The two chuckled under their breaths, before quickly putting an end to it when Joyce gave them the mom-death glare she was so good at.

"So, when do we leave?" Buffy cheerfully asked changing the subject.

* * *

"Albus, you can't be serious. She's just a child," Minerva outraged.

Buffy, Joyce and Remus had arrived just as the meeting was about to start. Wizards and Witches gathered around the long table in the kitchen, after all it was the only clean room in the house. There had been a few introductions, some welcoming and others not so much. Actually Professor Snape, was the not so much. She had met Tonks whom she immediately liked, and Mad-Eye Moody who was able to get on her good side as well. There were a few others, but before she was able to meet the rest, Dumbledore had glided in and began the meeting. Announcing that Buffy had been asked to join the Order of the Phoenix, leading to the now heavy protests.

Buffy cringed at being called a child but she stopped herself from out-bursting. That wouldn't make for a good impression, especially if she was trying to gain respect from these people.

"No, no, no that is absolutely out of the question. She is much too young, and considerably not of age," Mrs. Weasley firmly denied.

"Headmaster, you certainly must agree that the girl is too young," he snarled turning his attention to Buffy. "She hasn't enough experience to join."

Her fists were clenching at her sides, but forced her face to remain neutral. The rest of the crowd began to voice their opinions as well. All of them agreeing on her age, and so-called lack of experience.

But Dumbledore quickly quieted them down. "I can assure you that Ms. Summers is quite capable of handling herself in any situation. My decision to allow her to join has nothing to do with her age, but of her power. She has proven herself in more ways than one."

Buffy fazed away from the conversation when she felt a pecking at the back of her mind. Her eyes scattered around the room, the meeting wasn't as secretive as they thought. She sat up straighter when her nagging feeling pinpointed the source. Her eyes landed on the door, and she couldn't help the amused smirk on her face.

"Not to be rude, but I think everyone should know we're not as private as we used to be," Buffy interrupted.

She knew she shouldn't be ratting them out, but Buffy didn't want them to know she was here. She wanted to be able to surprise them with her presence later. That, and she didn't want them to discover anything about her that would undoubtedly be revealed.

Writing down on a piece of spare parchment she quickly handed the paper over to Mrs. Weasley. Quickly reading the note, Molly marched out of the room in what looked like anger. The rest of them turning to Buffy for an explanation.

"What's going on?" Sirius asked.

She wasn't really sure how to explain it, but was saved from it when Mrs. Weasley quickly marched back into the room. A piece of flesh colored string wrapped around her hand and looking completely flustered.

"Those boys. Nothing but trouble," she mumbled taking her previous seat.

The pieces formed in his mind, and Moody turned to Buffy in curious surprise. "How did you know?" his growled voice asked.

"Know what?" Tonks wondered aloud.

"George and Fred had been snooping in on the conversation," Arthur answered, after his wife explained everything in his ear.

The group, once again, stared at her curiously and Buffy began to shift. She looked to Dumbledore for an out, but he only asked that silent question that would be the only explanation.

There was no point in hiding it, she had even agreed to it. He had written to her before he had written to her mother. He never revealed of how he had discovered her calling, but she chalked it up to Dumbledoreism, always knowing of everything. He had personally offered her a formal invitation to join, and at first Buffy wasn't so sure. One of the reasons why she wanted to leave Sunnydale was so she could escape her slayerness, but now it seemed that it wasn't going to be so easy. The idea of playing Slayer again was something she was not looking forward to. All she wanted to do was go back to school, and the only thing she wanted to worry about was her O.W.L's. She was ready to decline his offer, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Voldemort was back, and as hard as it was going to be to face him she knew she had to do it. To stop him in whatever way possible. She wasn't the scared little second year she was when she left. She wasn't just a witch either. She had slayed some many real demons in her day, and now it was time to face her personal ones. Besides if Dumbledore trusted these people than so could she. Even Snape.

"You might as well," she said to the Headmaster.

Giving her a warm smile and nod, he revealed his decision to why he had asked her here. "The reason why I had asked Ms. Summers to join the Order is because she is in fact, a Vampire Slayer."

A collective gasped gathered around the room. If they gave her some strange looks before they were definitely redefining that word now. Buffy began to shift uneasily under the stares again, and was grateful when her mother held her hand under the table, and Remus patted her knee in comfort.

"A Vampire Slayer," Professor McGonagall repeated in astonishment.

"That's brilliant! What's it like? Are you really as strong as they say?" Tonks asked in excitement.

"Tonks!" Moody reprimanded.

"Is that how you were able to know that they were eaves dropping?" Tonks ignored him and continued.

"Yeah," Buffy shyly answered.

After dealing with the invisible girl in Sunnydale, Buffy was able to pick up on sights unseen. An advantage when you're the only one who could watch your own back. She had sensed someone listening in, and knowing how mischievous those Weasley boys could be it wasn't too hard to figure out.

"That must come in handy. What else can you do?"

"Tonks. Leave the girl be," Professor McGonagall advised, and the girl listened. It's hard not listen to a teacher, even if she wasn't your teacher anymore.

"A Vampire Slayer," Snape drawled unconvinced. "Are you sure?"

"Well if you want, she can give you a little demonstration," Sirius smirked.

"Yes, I am sure Severus," Dumbledore interrupted before a round of quarreling could begin. "Ms. Summers is a Slayer."

"But witches aren't allowed to become slayers," Kingsley's deep voice imputed.

She had thought the same thing herself until one fateful day. Then Merrick had explained it all.

"It is not they are not allowed, it is the fact that it is rare. Witches get surpassed from the calling, because the Wizarding Community has the means to defend itself dark creatures, unlike muggles. But there are instances where it has been known to occur. Ms. Summers being a prime example."

Yep that was the explanation all right. Even Buffy had argued against it when Merrick had told her, but there was nothing she could do about it. Once you're tapped, you're tapped.

"That still doesn't fully explain why she is here," Snape argued against her again.

It's so good to be home, Buffy glumly thought. And to think she still had to suffer through the man for the rest of the year. What was his issue anyway?

"She is here because I asked her to be," he firmly stated, and Buffy couldn't help the smug smile forming on her lips.

Severus glared at her like she was a thorn in his side, but kept his mouth shut. Tonks however had troubles repressing her small spill of giggles, she had never liked Snape, and seeing him be put in his place was more than she could take. Only when Minerva shushed her did she stop, but only barely. Buffy definitely liked the girl now.

Any further questions about Buffy's presence were cleared away. They had other, more important, things to discuss. No one needed to know the exact reason why Buffy was here, except for Dumbledore and Buffy herself. She had her mission, after all he did ask her to join for a reason.

Hours later the meeting concluded and little by little the group cleared away. Everyone giving their word not to reveal Buffy's presence in the Order to anyone who wasn't a member. It was imperative that everyone else see her as just another teenager, and that means everyone.

Professor McGonagall had reminded her one more time that she was glad to have her back, before she left with Dumbledore. Professors Snape glowering as he voiced his concerns about her academic level. Warning her about dragging down his class with her no doubt feeble mind. She had to restrain herself on that one, and could only glare as he swished out of the room, the git. Everyone else bid their goodbyes without a second thought, and Buffy was extremely grateful. So now Buffy was left fidgeting ready to get out of here and back home. Which was rather hard considering . . .

"Are you sure you won't like to stay, I'm sure the children would love to see you," Mrs. Weasley persisted.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley. I wish I could, but I've got a ton of work to catch up on. You know with the upcoming year and everything," Buffy declined, again.

"Right, right of course. Schoolwork must always come first," she nodded her head vigorously. "Maybe next time, when you're not so busy," Mrs. Weasley smiled, hoping she would take her up on her offer.

"Definitely," Buffy agreed.

She bid her farewell and walked over to her mother who was in a corner with Sirius and Remus whispering about who knows what. But whatever they were saying was cut short when they noticed her presence.

"Wow, I almost believed that," Buffy smiled.

The trio smiled sheepishly and tried their best to look cool, it didn't work.

"Are you ready to go?" Joyce asked her.

"Yep, all set," she nodded.

"We'll walk you out," Remus offered.

They climbed up the staircase and into the hallway. The place had emptied again and the resounding quiet stifled the place.

"Now are you sure you can't stay. Molly's cooking is not something to miss," Sirius commented hoping they would take the bate.

"I'm afraid not, she still has a lot of work to catch up on," Joyce regrettably declined.

"Always knew you were trouble," he winked at Buffy.

"It must've robbed off," she said.

"Told you, you were spending too much time with her Remus. Always knew you were a bad influence. Now you've gone and rubbed off on her," Sirius said in complete seriousness.

"Yes, well, I was always a troublesome boy wasn't I Joyce," Remus said in mock shame.

"Afraid so, I warned you Sirius. Told you not to socialize yourself with such a bad hat," she spoke.

"I should've listened, maybe then I could've been a model student. Who knows maybe I could've been a Prefect," Sirius commented sadly.

"Ok, now you guys are starting to freak me out," Buffy pitched in. Now she knew how her mother felt. It was kind of unsettling knowing that.

The three finally dropped the serious manner and broke into grins and barely repressed laughter.

"Come on, we should get going. It's getting late and there are some errands I need to run before it gets too dark," Joyce directed.

"Ok, we'll I guess we'll see you guys later," Buffy said as they walked closer to the door.

"Be careful," Remus advised.

"Of course, it's me," Buffy spoke.

"Exactly, it's you, so be careful Goldie Locks," Sirius warned.

"Love you too Snuggles," she commented one last time before they slipped out the door.

"She's not going to stop calling me that is she?" Sirius asked walking toward the basement door.

"Nope, afraid you're stuck with it. Told you mate, never should've started calling her Goldie Locks," Remus grinned slapping his friend on the back, as the two made it down to the kitchen.

Never noticing four redheads and a brunette gathered atop the staircase wondering who the older woman was and the girl with the hood-covered face whose voice sounded familiar.

* * *

Note: Sorry for the late update but my brain has put itself on freeze. I had to force it to work so if the chapter isn't exactly wonderful now you know why, but I tried :). I know Buffy is way too young to join the Order and that Dumbledore letting her is kind of a stretch, but its necessary, trust me. Also, for those who are following my other story I'm so sorry I haven't posted. Its hard trying to thaw my brain out. Anyway enough with the rambling. I hope you enjoy the chapter. And thanks for the reviews. 


	7. Chapter 7

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

The moment he had arrived he knew the place wasn't going to improve his mood. It was dark, dank and depressing. The day hadn't exactly started well to begin with either. Attacked by Dementors, kicked out of Hogwarts and dragged to who knows what part of the country. Being told to keep his mouth shut until they arrived at place where it looked like death had warmed over, and then being shoved up a stairway without a single explanation. Oh yeah, it was the bestest day ever.

He held some hope with Ron and Hermione, they would tell him what was going on. Yeah well, all of that went to pot when he found out they had been keeping him in the dark because Dumbledore had told them so. Keeping secrets behind his back, but they were ready with the excuses. Telling him that they didn't know all that much either, but he was quick to tell them that at least they were here, together the past few months. Happy and careless, while he was stuck at his Uncle's being miserable. Without a letter, a note, anything. Why were they allowed in the club when he wasn't even offered a membership. He's faced more than the two of them. Saved the Sorcerer's Stone, killed a basilisk, got rid of Tom Riddle and faced off against Voldemort. Saved their skins time and time again, risking his own life to do so. Facts he was quick to remind them of when he screamed at them, loud enough for the whole world to hear. But all that really accomplished was a sore throat because the anger still lay bubbling inside him.

Now, the three of them were hanging over the banister looking at the people down below. After Mrs. Weasley had informed them that dinner was ready they trailed off to the landing. That's when Ron had pointed out that there were still a few people in the hallway. So, along with Fred and George and their Extendable Ear, they gathered over the railing trying to catch a floating word on what the meeting was about. Slowly the group below them thinned away, taking their hope of finding anything with them. The only ones left were Remus, Tonks, Mrs. Weasley and two other occupants he didn't recognize. One was an older woman that looked vaguely familiar and the other one was suspiciously covered. Their voices drifted up and Harry tried to map the tones to his memory, especially the one with the black hood. It sounded feminine, sweet even. He felt as though the answer was staring him in the face, but he couldn't grasp a hold of it. Slowly the figure turned an eight of an inch to their right, to face the other woman, and for a split second Harry caught sight of a few golden strands and a profile before she turned her back to him again. His breath hitched and his eyes widened in surprise. It's not– it couldn't be . . . could it?

His undecided eyes watched as the unknown pair was escorted out of the door, his mind arguing against itself.

"Harry," Hermione called worriedly, her eyes trailing to what had captured his attention.

"What?" he asked dazedly, his eyes remaining on the doorway.

"What are you staring at?" Ron asked him.

"Nothing, I just thought . . . " Wishful thinking is what he thought, but it couldn't be. Must've been someone else. He shook his head and finally faced away from his self-imposed trance. "'S nothing. It doesn't matter."

Ron and Hermione shared a look, knowing what had caught his attention. It was the same mystery stranger they still hadn't been able to figure out either, and by the looks of it his guess was the same as theirs.

"We're eating down in the kitchen," Mrs. Weasley whispered as they met her at the bottom of the stairs. "Harry, if you could just tiptoe across, its right through-"

Whatever she was about to say was caught off by a loud crash and her exasperated 'Tonks!' shout. Followed soon after, by the tails of a blood-curdling screech. With his hands over his ears Harry watched as the ragged velvet curtains flew open to reveal an old woman screaming at the top of her lungs as though she were being tortured. Saying some of the most unpleasant things he has ever heard, and he's heard some bad ones living with the Dursleys, most of them directed at him.

As soon as the shouting reached his ears Sirius came rushing out of a nearby room and began to fight a seemingly fruitless battle with the curtains. Having a shouting match with the old woman along the way. Finally, after much effort and with Remus's help, he managed to get the curtains shut, regaining pleasurable silence once again.

"Wish Goldie Locks were here. That would've been much easier," Sirius mumbled lowly.

"If she were here, she wouldn't 've needed to have closed the curtains," Remus responded in a hushed tone.

They shared a secret chuckle before turning to face the rest of the group, and their very questioning eyes.

"Hello Harry," Sirius greeted. "I see you've met my mother."

* * *

The house was spotless, her mother's cleaning crusade seeing to that. No cobweb or speck of dust in sight. The floors were back to their usual gleaming selves, along with the windows and every other reflective surface. The furniture was re-upholstered because her mother felt that a new start deserved new things, or semi-new things. All the flowery junk that used to decorate the house was poofed away. Neutral tones of cream and light brown spread across the living spaces, with a few punches of red to brighten up the place. Even her room had gone through some major changes.

Pink just wasn't her color anymore. Neither were the kitten and princess posters hanging on her walls. What the hell was she thinking? Clearing away the – she was sure must've been – insanity she redecorated. She changed the full bed into a queen. Replaced the wooden headboard with a rustic metal one with filigree insets. Wiped away the pink walls for a saner much more beautiful golden beige coloring, and gave her mother the majestic chandelier with its many crystals. Trading it for a simple three candled one with a rustic finish. The rest of the bric-a-brac held the same general idea. By the end of it she was pooped, that was a long couple of hours.

She was resting comfortably in her window seat, looking out into the night sky. The twinkling stars and clear scape reminding her how much better it was to live out here than in the city. The air was cleaner. The sky was actually visible. Not to mention that it was far enough from busy streets that it made you feel like you were in another part of the world where tranquility and silence were an enforced staple.

"Honey?"

Buffy quickly turned to the doorway at the sound of her mother's voice, and saw her body stepping into the room. "Yeah?" Buffy asked.

"I'm going off to bed," she said.

"Ok."

Her mother's eyebrows furrowed and her arms crossed over her chest. "Are you sure you're ok? You seem a little different since we came back from the meeting."

"I'm fine, mom. Just tired. It's been a crazy couple- a- days," she responded.

She was hesitant in believing her, because she didn't, but didn't push any further. Buffy needed her space right now, and she more than respected it.

"All right, good night sweetheart."

"Good night mom."

The door shut silently after her, and Buffy was once again alone in her room. Thinking back to previous events.

She knew they were there, gathered around the banister and watching them. No doubt trying to figure out the person beneath all the black coverings, but as Dumbledore made them all promise, her part in the Order was to be kept a secret. She smiled when the other reason rose up in her head. Knowing them, they were no doubt trying to see if they could pickup any information they weren't allowed to know. Some things just never change.

Earlier, when Moody came in and told them that they had arrived safely, Buffy breathed a sigh of relief, but when she later caught sound of Harry screaming she began to think maybe he wasn't in the best of moods. Not that she could blame him. Being shielded from everything that was going on. It wasn't fair to him. He had every right to know. After all he was the one they were spreading the lies about, he's the one at most risk. She had even argued for his defense, but all the adults agreed that it would be best for him if he didn't know. Especially with the new information Dumbledore had revealed to them. And ok she understood his reasoning, but they could at least tell him some things. Nothing too vital, but enough so that he didn't feel so left out. Enough so he wouldn't do anything stupid, which seemed to be a guarantee with Harry, which every way you look at it.

Leaning her head against the windowsill, she sighed. Thoughts of the Order lead to ones of wizards, which lead her to dwell on her dreams again. They were beginning to grow stranger by the night. Flashes of random pictures rolling through her unconscious state. Most of them, feeling as though she was seeing things through someone else's eyes. Remembering someone else's memories. Pangs of emotions brought on for no reason she could recall. These weren't like her slayer dreams. Those were visions and they usually involved demons, not wizards.

Whenever she woke up the next morning after nightmare-scape, she felt as though she was entering her body for the first time. It always took her a few minutes to gather her bearings. There something important in those dreams, but for the life of her she couldn't figure out what. Her instinct on things like these would be to go to Giles, but he was off continents away. No doubt cursing her existence on how she had left things, left them. But she didn't have a choice. Sunnydale was breaking her and she couldn't take it anymore. Her letters to them were short, but she didn't have much time, mostly because she was with the not knowing of what to say. So, she settled for the facts. Told them she was leaving because her mother had found out she was a slayer and had decided to send her to 'boarding school' the next day. The fact that she had killed . . . Angel, and kept the world turning. She wrote that she would miss them and that as soon as she was able to, she would write. Then she bid her love and dropped off the letters in their mailboxes.

It all seemed like years ago, now. Had it only been three months since she the last time she saw them? Saw Willow's unconscious body in a hospital bed, Giles beaten and bloody. Murdered Angel as he kissed her gently. Found Kendra's body lifeless on the floor. She screwed her eyes shut tightly against the pictures, and hugged her knees to her chest, hoping to keep away the memories she was trying hard to convince herself were only nightmares.

The headache was pounding again, and her skin began to burn. That one special spot that was a reminder of her past. The reason why her mother had fearfully pulled her out of school and to any place that was far enough. The reason why her father abandoned them, and left with some tramp with too much makeup. She remembered that look of fear in his eyes, and what hurt the most was the mistrust that flickered in them as well. She never understood why he felt that way, no one else did. They understood what happened, that it wasn't her fault, but her father could never get past it. She cried herself to sleep for months after that. Of course the nights after were never really all that much better.

Slowly the burning subsided and Buffy was left tired and worn, more from the day really. Resigning to the fatigue she shut the window, and rose from the bench. Pulling back the white covers she climbed in and snuggled deep within the comfort. Letting her mind drift off to unpleasant dreams she knew were to come.

* * *

They hadn't told him anything useful, just tempting bits that they wouldn't reveal. As he laid his head upon the pillow, he was still trying to figure out what kind of weapon Voldemort was after. What could be worse than the killing curse, the name said it all. If only Mrs. Weasley hadn't interrupted them. Who knows what kind of other information he could've gotten out of Sirius.

He flopped onto his back and ran a frustrated hand across his face. Ron was off snoring in his bed and it began to grate on his nerves. What could Voldemort want? Sighing loudly, he rolled over to his side and let the madness be . . . for now. He was exhausted and his brain seemed to have already turned in for the night. Tucking his hand underneath the pillow, he was surprised when something cool met his skin. He pulled his hand back quickly, then slowly he wrapped his fingers around the mysterious object and pulled it out from its hiding.

With his enclosed hand, he straightened up into sitting position and leaned his back against the headboard. Opening his fist he laid eyes upon the mystery, and holding it by its clasp he let the necklace drop down. His eyes following the silver cross as it swung gently back and forth. It was cold, so that meant it had been left here for a while. It couldn't have belonged to Sirius, or Remus. And he knew it didn't belong to any of the Weasleys or Hermione. So, who did it belong to? And why did it look familiar?

* * *

Note: Yay I updated! Took me a while to get it out, I hope you guys enjoy it. Thanks for all the reviews, I really appreciate them. 


	8. Chapter 8

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

"How was the hearing?" Buffy asked lifting her head from her book.

"Cleared of all charges," Remus told her, taking a seat on the couch beside her.

"Bet they were happy to hear that," she grinned.

"Ecstatic. They're celebrating as we speak."

"Didn't wanna stay for the cake and ice cream?"

"They're saving me a piece. I just thought you and your mother would like to know. Where is she by the way?" He glanced around the room and stretched his neck to look into the next.

"Went to do some shopping. Turns out that in order to survive you have to eat this thing call food," she said.

"Really? That's news to me."

"I know, weird right?"

Leaning down Remus picked up a book from the floor and looked at the cover, 'The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection.'

"Didn't we already cover this?" he asked raising the book to her attention.

"Yeah I know, but I'm going over everything again," she shrugged. "Wanna make sure I have it down, since schools starting soon."

"Smart thinking."

"It was bound to happen sooner or later," she smiled, one he happily returned.

"Must come from your mother's side."

"You mean Ms. Ravenclaw. I'm surprised she hasn't forced me to study in my sleep," she sighed.

"Don't give her any ideas," he said.

She gave a short snicker and closed the book on her lap. "How's Sirius?"

"Better now that Harry's around, but he's still upset about not being able to leave the house."

"Dumbledore still against it?"

"He's adamant about it. He doesn't want anybody taking any risks right now," he told her.

"Bet that's killing him. Surprised he hasn't snuck out of the house," she said, then her eyes went wide in dawning. "He hasn't has he?"

"No," he smiled. "Been keeping my eye on him. He hasn't ignored Dumbledore's order once, which is driving him crazy."

"Meaning he's driving you crazy."

"Yeah, but I was already crazy to begin with."

He rose up to his feet and tossed the book to the vacated spot. "I should get going. With so many people living in that house, who knows if there'll be any food left when I arrive."

"None, is my vote."

"Yeah, mine too. Tell your mother the news will you," he asked of her.

"Sure, say hi to Sirius for me," she told him.

"Will do," he said, and with a pop he was gone.

She picked up the book again and began to read where she left off. He was cleared of all charges, and would be returning to Hogwarts. The smile spreading across her face was bright and cheerful, making her true feelings about the news very clear. But the tiny nervous butterflies in her stomach had nothing to do with excitement, but of worry of how he would react to her return. How all of them would react. And for a split second Buffy wondered if it was such a good idea to come back.

* * *

They were sure that no matter how hard they scrubbed the grime in Grimmauld Place would never come off. 

"I think the stuff's glued on if you ask me," Ron said, rubbing harshly at the cupboard.

"Feels like my arm's gonna come out of its socket," Harry complained, wiping the window that refused to be clean.

"It's not that bad," Hermione said wringing the cloth over a bucket. "At least were making progress."

The boys looked to each other and rolled their eyes, but kept quiet.

". . . filthy blood traitors and half-breeds in my poor old mistress' home Oh, what would she say to poor Kreacher. Mudbloods and scum, dirty filth rifling through my mistress' treasures. If only the young mistress were here, she would help Kreacher. Yes, yes such a kind mistress she was . . . "

The house-elf's muttering stopped them as he entered the room, and the three watched as he went about the space. His eyes fluttering over the place, not doubt trying to find an open opportunity to steal more items. If he knew the three of them were there he ignored it. Continuing on his scavenging hunt, as he peaked through drawers and under tables, muttering all the way.

". . . what they have done to my mistress' home, oh the shame, the shame. The ungrateful swine letting these nasty beasts throw away my mistress' treasures. Poor Kreacher, serving such vile scum. How he wishes the young mistress were here. She would treat Kreacher well, so kind and generous she was. Yes, how good she was to poor old Kreacher . . . "

Whatever he was looking for, he didn't find. Without glancing at them he left them to their cleaning and exited the room. Still muttering obscenely all the way.

"Completely mental he is," Ron huffed.

"Well he has been left alone for years, not having anyone to talk to. It's a bit sad really," Hermione sympathized.

Ron rolled his eyes and turned to Harry. "Any luck on finding out who the 'young mistress' is?"

"I've asked Sirius, but he says to just ignore it. That it's all in Kreacher's head," he answered.

"The way he goes on about it, she sure seems like a real person," Ron said.

"That's because she is," Fred interrupted as he and George stepped into the room.

"How 'd you know?" Ron asked.

"Because we've overheard Sirius and Remus going on about someone named Goldie Locks. Saying how she's the only one who could control the batty old Kreacher," George answered.

"Goldie Locks?" Hermione asked them.

"Who's that?" Harry requested.

"Don't know. They never mention her name, but one thing's for sure she's a member of the Order," he explained.

"Caught the name a few times while were listening in on the meetings," Fred provided.

"They don't call her by name?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"Not as far as we know," he answered her.

"That's odd," she voiced.

"Don't suppose that's the strange girl we can't figure out?" Ron wondered to them.

"Could be," she answered him. "Which means she must be older than we thought."

"Would have to be, if she's allowed in the meetings," Harry said.

A knock on the door pulled them out of there thinking, and turned just as Ginny was entering the room.

"Mum says lunch's ready," she informed them.

Dropping any cleaning supplies they nodded and followed her out.

"So are you gonna ask Sirius about it again?" Ron asked Harry as the two lagged behind.

"Don't know. He wasn't really keen on me asking him the first time. He seemed put off," he answered.

"Well, he does seem a little down lately. Maybe that's it."

"Yeah," Harry responded unsurely.

"Besides it can't be her. What would she be doing back after almost three years."

Harry only nodded as his thoughts trailed. He was so sure it was her, but she would be too young to be a member. If they didn't let him join because of his age, why would they make an exception for her. He gave short shake of his head and tried to put it out of his mind. Choosing to distract himself by talking to Ron about the upcoming year, and trying to force the memory flashes of her out of his mind.

* * *

"Joyce!" 

"Molly!"

Moving across the crowd, the two women met in the middle to greet each other properly.

"School shopping too, I see," Molly said as they broke apart from the friendly hug.

"Last minute, unfortunately."

The booklists arrived mere hours before and now everyone was rushing to get all the supplies that were needed.

"Dumbledore must have his reasons," Mrs. Weasley nodded.

"He always does," Joyce smiled, and then raised an eyebrow when she saw the load in the other woman's arms. "Buying the entire school's supply Molly?"

"What?" Joyce made a nod to her arms and Mrs. Weasley gave a short laugh. "Oh yes, well I'm just picking up all of the children's things. Thought it be best this way."

"That's very kind of you. Why don't you let me help you," Joyce offered.

"No, no its all right I can manage," she refused, juggling the items.

"Molly, please. Its really no trouble," she tried again.

"No, it's--"

A book had slipped and smacked right to the floor. Groaning in exasperation Mrs. Weasley tried to bend down to pick up the annoying thing, but Joyce beat her to it.

"I insist," she said rising from her position, book in hand.

"All right," she smiled timidly. "Thank you Joyce."

"It's my pleasure."

Taking some of the weight off her hands, she followed Molly to the counter.

"So, where are you heading after this?" Joyce asked.

"Off to buy a broom for Ron. He made prefect this year," she said proudly.

"Really, that's wonderful."

"Arthur and I are so proud of him. Promised to buy him a present for it."

Their turn had come up and they waited patiently as their items were being bagged after paying for them. Finally, they made it out of Flourish & Blotts, bags in hand.

"So, where is our dear Buffy?" Molly asked as they made their way to Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"She's taking care of a few things before the school year starts," she answered smiling at the sentiment. "Tying up some loose ends."

They continued talking as they squeezed their way through the crowds. Both women wondering if Dumbledore had in fact gone mad, sending the lists off last minute. No matter the reason for it, at the moment all they wanted to do was strangle the man from the frustration of it all. What was he thinking?

* * *

She was trying to work up the nerve to knock on his door for the past two minutes, with no luck. She adjusted the hem of her dress, smoothed her hair, did everything but knock on the damn door. 

"Okay Buffy, you can do this. It's not that hard. It's not gonna bite." She lifted her hand and paused mid air. "Here goes nothing."

She finally made contact with the door and rapped on it quickly. Holding her breath, she waited. Oh well looks like no ones home. Then of course came the sound shuffling on the other side, and not releasing her intake of air she watched as the door slowly opened. Crap, crap, crap, crap.

"Buffy," he breathed out.

"Hi."

He stared at her, waiting to see if she would disappear, and it was kinda freaking her out.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

"What? Oh. Yes, yes of course," he answered, shaking out of his stupor.

Finally she exhaled and stepped into his small flat. Glancing around at the friendly familiarity.

"How are you?" he asked shutting the door.

"Good."

They stared at each other. Not having lain eyes on one another in nearly four months, and now here they were. After so much had happened, some things he wasn't even aware of, she couldn't deny how much she missed him.

"I'm sorry Giles," she apologized near tears.

He moved to her and wrapped her in his arms. She was really here. All those months of worrying if she was okay, put to rest.

"It's all right. Shhh, its all right," he soothed.

They stayed in comfort for a few minutes until she was able to compose herself.

"You're not mad?" she asked pulling away and wiping at her eyes.

"Of course not Buffy. Did you think I would be?" He pulled the handkerchief from his trusty spot and handed it to her.

"Kinda," she waterily smiled. "Thanks." She took the handkerchief and dabbed her tears dry.

"You did what you had to do. I know it must've been hard for you, but you did the right thing. Killing Angelus was the only way."

She wanted to correct him, to say it was Angel she had murdered, but she held her tongue.

"Yeah, I know. It was hard, but I'm getting better. Getting away from this place . . . its helping," she assured him.

"Good." He smiled, and then slowly turned to worry. "How did your mother take it? Finding out about you being the Slayer."

"Not good," she sighed and walked over to the couch. "She kinda wigged out at first, but she came around. We talked about it, and she thought it would be best if we left Sunnydale."

"For boarding school," he said, his tone unbelieving.

"Yeah." She noticed his tone of voice and knitted her eyebrows together in questioning.

"Buffy," he started, sitting beside her and removing his glasses before fiddling with them. "I know you're going back to Hogwarts."

"Hog-a-what?" How did he know that? She never once mentioned it to him and he gave no indication of letting her know he knew.

"I know you're a witch."

And the bombs keep on coming. "You know I'm a what?"

"Buffy. The Council keeps records of all their slayers. Their family life, their history. Their abilities."

"Okay, feeling some serious personal violations here," she retorted.

"The Council does this to make sure we keep track of information for any future use," he explained. "You being chosen was a great surprise. It's been centuries since a witch had been called. That's why I pushed you so hard. I wanted to make sure you could use your new gifts without the aid of magic."

Taking all sorts of uncomfortable realizations aside she decided not to go into full craze mode. It's not like she could actually change it, but man if she could . . .

"Well . . . I guess I can understand that. Doesn't mean I have to like it," she grudgingly caved.

"No, I didn't expect you would," he smiled.

He placed the glasses back on his face and looked at her again. She looked so much older, her eyes shadowed and secretive.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"I will be."

He nodded in acceptance of her answer and leaned back more comfortably on the couch.

"Giles. If you guys know all about the Wizarding World. Does that mean you know all about Voldemort?"

He stiffened in his seat and looked in the eye, his voice sounding tired. "He's back, isn't he?"

"Yeah," she nodded solemnly. "But the Ministry refuses to believe it, convincing everyone else not believe it. What I can't believe is how dumb they're being."

"Travers mentioned it to me. Said there were murmurings going around about his return, but the Ministry told him not to worry. That it was a lie cooked up by Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore."

"The Council and the Ministry talk to each other?"

"Over the years they have established some sort of common ground. Becoming allies when needed, but staying out of each others way for the most past. Except Travers and Mr. Fudge, they've become good friends over the years. Both as blind as bats if you ask me."

"Which means you think all this denial is rubbish," she grinned.

"They know what's coming, just too afraid and weak to admit it." He leaned back again and stared off. "They're going to get everybody killed."

The sentiment was one she was used to. How many times did the Order say the same thing. Now the Council was involved in Fudge's idiocy. She just hoped they would open their eyes before it was too late.

"How did you get here?" he asked, interrupting her stirring.

"My mom brought me. Said to just let her know when I'm ready to leave so she can pick me up."

"Oh," he nodded slowly. He didn't know how to say it, and it had been bothering him. Finally after his debating he faced her. "Buffy, can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"You have no idea how strange you sound to me with a British accent," he smiled.

She grinned and relaxed even further into the couch. Both of them laughing for an unknown reason, but feeling lighter for doing so. Now, she definitely didn't regret coming here. It was just what she needed before facing whatever came for her tomorrow.

* * *

Note: Thank you again for reading and reviewing, hope it encourages you to continue. 


	9. Chapter 9

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

She looked out the window and gave a heavy, annoyed sigh.

"I still don't understand why I have to go by train," Buffy complained.

"You know why," she reminded her, picking up stray things around the room.

"Doesn't mean I want to."

Joyce placed the items on the bed and walked over to her, placing her hands on her daughters arms. Then gently rubbing her back in support.

"I know you're nervous, but everything will be okay. Its just getting through the first day," she tried to soothe.

"And then the rest of the year," Buffy mumbled.

She kissed her head and went back to packing the trunk. "You'll be fine. We better hurry up. Dumbledore wants us to get there early."

With one last resigning sigh she moved away from the window and went to her bed. Making sure she had everything she needed, and closing it with a weighty thud. Lifting the heavy thing with severe ease she followed her mother down the stairs.

"This would be so much easier if I-"

"If you would stop complaining, and just do as you're told," her mother firmly cut her off.

They stopped in front of the fireplace and Buffy reached into the small ceramic pot her mother offered her, taking a handful.

"Fine, but all I'm saying-"

"Buffy," she warned.

Clamping her mouth shut, she narrowed her eyes at her mother. She tossed the powder, and waited for the flames to turn green before stepping in. "The Leaky Cauldron," she stated, and in a whiz she was gone.

Buffy gracefully landed on the other side and was just finishing cleaning herself up when her mother stepped out, ash covered. Which a second later was whisked away.

"Come on, I've arranged for a taxi to take us the rest of the way," Joyce said already heading out the door, and sure enough there was a muggle cab waiting for them at the street corner.

Time had no meaning to Buffy on the ride to Kings Cross. All that was going through her mind, were the nerves and the fear. Her leg shaking nonstop the entire way. She tried to relax, going through the motions of keeping calm, but yeah, that wasn't happening. She wasn't this nervous the first time she attended Hogwarts, heck she was excitement personified then. But this was different, it was a whole new house, with people she hadn't seen in a long time. And she was a whole new and different Buffy Summers. Now it was just a matter of how they were going to react to that.

"Here we are," Joyce announced happily.

"Yep here we are," Buffy repeated in feared calm.

They paid the driver and stepped inside the building. Kings Cross, a muggle train station with a platform that led to a magical world that un-magical people could only dream of. Buffy's large eyes wandering over the place to see if it had changed during her absence, it hadn't. It was the same old train station that she used to wait for every summer to see, now that was only semi happening. They walked toward their destination, one in high spirits, the other in nervous jumbles. Then there it was platform nine and three-quarters. The deceiving wall in between platforms nine and ten that served as the gateway to Buffy's uncertain future.

"Go on," her mother told her encouragingly. "You should go first. I'll meet you at the other end."

Buffy nodded hesitantly and took a deep breath. Holding even tighter to her trunk, she set her jaw and walked toward the wall, disappearing through it a second later.

There it was. Scarlet, large and majestic. The steam rolling over it in waves, covering its wheels and making it seem like it was floating in air. The windows clear and gleaming, decorating its sides. All the fear in Buffy swished away at the sight of the Hogwarts Express. Her eyes glued to the steam engine in wonder, carrying her off to the magic she had been separated from.

"Strange isn't it. It just never changes," Joyce commented, stepping beside her.

"What? Oh, yeah," she nodded.

Brought back to reality Buffy looked around. Noticing that very few bodies littered the platform, they must've come earlier than she thought.

"Guess everyone will be arriving soon. I better go reserve a seat before there isn't one," Buffy told her.

"You mean before anybody realizes you're here," she said knowingly.

"Maybe," she responded fidgety.

"You're going to have to face them sooner or later."

"I'm much into the later."

Smiling in humor Joyce wrapped her arms around her daughter. Stroking her golden hair lovingly.

"Everything's going to be fine. You'll see."

Buffy nodded her head as she stepped away from her mother's arm. Taking a hold of her trunk once again, after placing it down earlier.

"Go on. I'll see you during Christmas."

"Ok. Love you Mom." She leaned up and gave her a good bye kiss on the cheek.

"Love you too honey."

And with one last unsure smile Buffy moved onto the train. She had never stepped into it when it was empty. It seemed larger without its usual moving bodies. She moved across the empty compartments finding one closer to the back, where she hopefully wouldn't be seen. Having time to waste she decided to change into her uniform. It would be much easier than doing it later. And would help to move things along a lot faster in case she was stuck with people she used to know, who would undoubtedly have questions.

Adjusting her last clothing item, she opted to stick with her black hoodie sweater, instead of her cloak. Pulling up the hood over her head, drawing it forward to shield her face as much as possible. Trying to keep her identity a secret for as long as she was able. Snapping the lid shut, she left the trunk on the seat, letting people know that the compartment was taken just in case someone got there before she did. Making sure her hair was pulled back from view and her head was covered properly, she set out.

She needed a clear view of the new arrivals. Needed to make sure those who were supposed to arrive, arrived safe and sound. She settled for a window not to far from her carriage, it offered the perfect view she needed, and the short distance she desired to get to her seat quickly if she wanted to. Her eyes wafting over the now growing bodies, she looked for her mother. It was her mother's job to stand watch over the station and make sure there was no trouble to greet the group when the arrived. She waved shortly at her when she saw her waving in her direction. Her mother giving her a positive and reassuring smile. Lowering her arm, she leaned into the window, and begun her careful watchful waiting.

They were taking too long. It was almost time for the train to pull out and they hadn't arrived. A few students boarded and she felt them looking in her direction. She peaked a little out of her covering, and breathed a sigh of relief when they didn't look familiar. Luckily, they took a space closer to the front and let her be. Looking out again she noticed her mother start to fidget and looking worried. Why are they taking so long?

Finally she spotted them stepping through the arch, and relief flooded through her. She saw Mrs. Weasley, an old woman who she assumed was Tonks, and Harry. Harry who she hadn't seen in years and missed while she was away. Harry who had changed a lot since from what she can remember. Harry who was making her heart race just a little bit faster from the excitement of seeing him.

Snapping out of her daze she saw her mother hidden off to the side, secretly keeping her eye on the place just in case. For someone who wasn't used to doing the guard thing she was pretty good at it, Buffy thought. Buffy also noticed how she held an odd expression on her face, almost angry. Following her line of vision Buffy saw why. There he was happy as could be, wagging his large black tail. Tongue hanging out and panting like mad. He was such a dead man. Her mother looked about ready to burst, and Buffy was grinning like a fool.

The rest of the group finally made their appearance. They had arrived safely, thank goodness, and with only minutes to spare. By the looks of it they were ready to board, and Buffy watched as Sirius stood on his doggy hind legs and gave Harry a hug, well as much as a dog could. Yep, he was definitely a dead man if her mother had anything to say about it. Mrs. Weasley bustled them on board and Buffy waited until the last of them stepped foot on the train. Then quietly she left the window and slipped into her, thank goodness, still empty compartment. They had gotten him safely on board the train, and from here on out it was Buffy's job to keep Harry-watch.

She pulled the cloak out of her trunk and then placed the large thing on the luggage rack. There was so much noise going on in the hallway. Everybody saying their goodbyes to their parents and what not, one last time. Making herself comfortable she wrapped the cloak over her and leaned against the window, feigning sleep.

Minutes later she heard the door slide open and some very hushed voices slipping in. Covertly opening one eye she looked at her bunk mates and saw how small they all were. First years. She didn't move or say a word, hoping to keep it that way for the rest of the trip.

"Should we ask?" one tiny voice wondered.

"Ask what? It's not like we can go anywhere else, its all full. Come on, maybe she'll stay asleep the rest of the way," another bossier one answered.

She heard the door close, and then heard them shuffling around. There were four of them. Three taking seat opposite her, and one next to her. Two boys and two girls, and all nervous. She couldn't blame them, here she was a fifth year and probably more nervous than all of them combined.

"What do you think it'll be like?"

"I don't know. My sister Eleanor says it's really great though. Says there's all sorts of strange things, like moving staircases."

"Moving staircases?"

"Mm-hmm."

"What house is she in?"

"She's in Hufflepuff."

Their tones were hushed but excitable. Buffy secretly smiling with every new guess of what they would expect. Their innocent curiosity helping to ease her nerves.

A short time later Buffy heard bellowing from the trolley lady flying down the corridor.

"Anything from the trolley!"

Then came the lack of talking and jingling of money from her carriage patriots, before they raced out of the room to the food. All but one.

Opening her eyes she saw the little girl who was sitting next to her looking sad. Her eyes near tears.

"You're not hungry?" Buffy cautiously asked her.

Startled at hearing her speak the raven haired girl nearly fell off her seat.

"H-hi," she stuttered out.

"Hi," she smiled, and was relieved to see the girl relax. "You're not gonna get anything from the trolley?"

"I . . . I don't have any money," she answered sadly.

The pulling at her sympathy strings made Buffy react. Reaching into her pocket she grabbed a few coins, it's not like she was strapped for cash.

"Here," she offered.

"What? N-no I couldn't," she shook her head.

"Of course you could. Just don't tell anyone where you got it," Buffy winked and went back to her previous position.

A second later she felt the seat lighten, and heard footsteps leave in a hurry. Looking down at the cushion she saw an empty spot where the coins used to be.

"...said he got a bogey flavored one once. Stopped eating them for a week."

And they were back. They adjusted themselves in their seats again and went about eating their sweets. A few seconds after they had arrived, she felt the cushion shift again.

"Why didn't you follow us to the trolley earlier?" a boy asked around a mouth full of candy.

Don't tell them, don't tell them. Holding her breath Buffy waited for the girl to answer.

"I uh . . . I couldn't find my money."

Buffy relaxed, that is one good kid. The compartment was full of voices again and Buffy let her thoughts trail. There really was no turning back now. She was heading back to Hogwarts, to a life she had left. Everything just felt so strange, so surreal. On one hand she was eager to return, and on the other she was terrified. Two separate emotions pulling at her, both very strong and making her very uneasy.

Minutes later the door slid open, breaking Buffy out of her musings. Stiffening her body, she perked her ears and waited.

"Well, well, well look at what we have here boys. First years."

Oh crap. She squeezed her eyes tightly and cringed. She would know that voice anywhere. Deeper than she remembered, but still filled with arrogance.

"Names Draco Malfoy and I will be your superior from here on out. Anything I tell you to do, you do. So you better watch yourselves, don't wanna get on my bad side. If you know what I mean."

The kids stayed quiet. No doubt afraid of the git.

"Who's that?" he demanded, and Buffy stiffened even more. "In the corner there." Crap.

"D-don't know, sir. She's been sleeping since we got here," one brave soul answered.

"Sleeping, eh?"

She felt his eyes on her. Burning through the cloak that covered her face, trying to figure out the girl underneath.

"Looks kinda small, probably a third year. Hey you! Wake up!"

Buffy felt the anger begin to rise over her. That stupid-little-son-of-a-

"She's sleeping," a small, but strong voice beside her said.

"No one's talking to you First year," Draco spat.

He did not just say that. Her patience had broken, how dare he talk to her that way. Buffy was ready to jump up and pummel him to the ground when . . .

"Malfoy leave them alone."

Hearing her voice made her shrink even farther into her cloak. Pushing aside all her anger, Buffy waited again.

"This is none of your business Granger."

"It is my business. I'm a prefect too. And if you don't behave I'll report you to Dumbledore."

There was a pause. A weighing of power. Finally . . .

"Whatever," Draco resigned. "Come on guys. We've got better things to do with our time anyway."

She heard three heavy footsteps fade away, and breathed in relief.

"Are you guys okay?" her tentative voice asked.

"Y-yes were fine."

"Good."

Buffy felt yet another pair of eyes in her direction. This time, this pair, strayed a little longer.

"Yes, well . . . good. I'll stop by later to let you know when to change into your robes."

The door shut softly, and the kids' voices raised excitedly. Peering through her robe, she looked at the girl next to her, and nudged her secretly with her foot. The girls blue eyes turned to her, and Buffy winked before closing her eyes, resuming her feigned sleep for the rest of the trip.

Hours later the train came to a halt, everyone shuffling getting ready to leave. The students had slipped into their uniforms and made preparations to leave.

"Should we wake her?"

Buffy still didn't move an inch, and wasn't going to until she was sure the train was empty.

"You guys go on ahead, I'll do it."

They seemed to have listened to her, because the next thing Buffy heard was the shuffling of feet and then quiet.

"They're gone now."

"The whole train?"

There was quiet and then a minute later. "Yeah."

Buffy removed the cloak from her body and stood. Stretching her kinked muscles from staying in one position too long.

"Oh, man does that feel good," she groaned reaching and stretching. The little girl giggling at her.

"What's your name?" Buffy asked her.

"Susie Lore."

"Well, it's nice to meet you Susie. My name's Buffy." She stretched out her hand and shook the other girl's gently.

"That's a weird name," Susie said. "I like it."

"Me too," she grinned.

"Are you a third year like that boy said?"

"You mean the pratt with boulders for friends?"

Susie giggle again. "Yeah."

"No," she smiled. "I'm a Fifth, and don't worry you'll love Hogwarts."

The blue-eyed girl took her words to stone and felt a whole lot better.

"Oh, here. I almost forgot." In her small outstretched hand was a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "I didn't know what to get you, so I chose the one with the most candy," she said shyly.

She was ready to deny the gift, but one look in her bright eyes and she melted. "Thank you," Buffy told her softly.

"Actually, it's more like thank you," she smiled, and got one in return.

"You better hurry up. I think you're new friends will wonder where you're at."

"Right, I'd better get going. I'll see you around . . . won't I?" she asked hesitantly.

"You bet."

And smiling brilliantly one last time, Susie left. Now, Buffy was really all alone. Slipping her own trunk from the rack she placed it on the seat. Unzipping her hoodie she hesitantly placed it in her luggage. There was no point in hiding herself now. She whipped the cloak around her and fastened it tightly. Making sure she had everything she needed she stuck her head out of the carriage. Yep, it was definitely empty. Quietly walking down the corridor she braced herself. Praying to whoever took prayers, to send some pity her way.

One foot and then the other, and Buffy was back on solid ground again. She kept her head low and followed a group that passed her, trying her best to blend. Which was rather hard considering they were second years. She had no idea where she was going, her eyes glued to the ground. Finally raising them after a few minutes, she realized that she had somehow landed in a group of yet more first years. Sighing in irritation she turned around, and smack dab into one of the very things she was hiding from.

His silver eyes grew large, and his mouth dropped. It couldn't be. It can't be her, he argued with himself. He tried his best to speak but couldn't make a sound. His mind had a complete melt down.

On her end Buffy wasn't doing any better. Looks like Harry wasn't the only one who had changed. He looked so different now, but his eyes were the same. His eyes she would never forget.

It took a small shove from an innocent bystander to break her out of the stupor. She didn't say anything, couldn't say anything to him. Not a smile, not an anything, she walked away. His haunting eyes following her.

Her steps were brisk and off minded. They just kept moving with no specific destination. Then suddenly they stopped, and she froze. This was just not her night. There they were. The three of them. A few people beside them, but she payed them no attention. All she saw was them, and all they saw was her. They were several feet away, but there was no mistake about it. She was really there.

Swallowing thickly she looked away from their shocked filled faces and stepped into the nearest carriage. Not caring who was inside, just that fact that it wasn't 'them.' She covered her face with her hands as the carriage thankfully began to move to the castle. Her mind racing and heart pounding madly.

Harry stood rooted to the spot. His eyes unmoving from where he had last seen her.

"That was her, wasn't it," Ron said.

"I can't believe it," Hermione voiced in shock. "She's back."

"Who's back?" Luna asked.

Hermione was ready to answer when someone beat her to it, someone who was in more shock than all of them.

"Buffy Summers," Harry breathed out.

* * *

Note: I updated quicker. Yay me :) Footnote here, I'm going to be combining some of the book and movie scenes. Some scenes just work better for this story, than others. 


	10. Chapter 10

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

Not since Harry Potter had started Hogwarts had there been so much interest in a student doing the same. Only this time it wasn't because the student had faced and survived the killing curse. This time it was because said student hadn't been seen in ages, and had now, suddenly appeared out of the blue.

A whisper here, a whisper there, a whisper everywhere. Just the welcoming she was hoping for. Passing by hushed voices and odd looks she pretended like she wasn't bothered by any of it. However, her complete lack of making eye contact might've given away her uneasiness. Can't win 'em all Buffy. Trying to avoid everyone at all costs she hurried through the castle and to the Entrance Hall. Hoping to get settled into her new house table before anyone would notice.

You'd think she would've known better. Hasn't the past hour proved that no matter how hard she tried, inevitably the unavoidable can't be avoided. It seemed like the whole school had run up to catch a glimpse of the no longer missing girl. Turning around she saw them grouped in clusters, whispering and staring. The words 'dance monkey dance' running through her head. And it was only going to get worse.

She finally stepped into the Hall, and froze right on the spot. It was like her mind was fighting itself. One side of the room was her old house, her old life. On the far other was her new house, her not new but different life. By instinct she edged toward her old table, it's hard to break old habit. The others watched her, expecting her to take a seat in the table they used to seeing her in. The house that used to be hers. But their reactions turned from expectant to complete shock and questioning, when she moved past it and to the table that they would have never expected to see her in.

Harry, Ron and Hermione pushed through the crowds, as did Draco at the far end of them. Their eyes searching for the one and only Buffy Summers, and of course she was in the last place they looked. In the place they would've never thought to look.

Eyes gaping in surprise and their jaws reaching floor, they found Buffy sitting quietly, calmly and alone at the Gryffindor Table.

Could someone get a heart attack from their heart racing a thousand miles per minute? If not, Buffy was sure she was going to prove them wrong. She didn't dare look up, what was the point. She was sure they were looking at her like she had gone mad. Wondering what in the hell she was doing sitting at a table, where she already knew she didn't belong. Her leg began to quiver again, a dead give away of how she felt. She needed a distraction, anything. Remembering she had brought her bag with her, hidden away beneath her robes, she pulled out a book. Didn't matter which one, heck right now she didn't even care if it was in English. Opening it to the first page she began to read, hoping they would take the hint and leave her be.

They inched to their tables cautiously, acting like at any moment she was going to set them to flames. The ones who seemed to be moving the slowest were of course the Gryffindors, especially those who used to know Buffy. They began to take their seats at the far end of the table, as far away from her as possible. The only one who wanted to be close to her was Harry. Seeing her now, made him realize how much he had missed her. Missed talking to her. His heart leapt, he couldn't believe she was back. Then he remembered how she had cut him out of her life. Briskly and without word, and the hurt he had felt then, came back. Hurt turned to anger, and he couldn't get far enough.

"What in the bloody hell is she doing sitting here?" Ron spat.

"Don't know, but I don't think it's a mistake," Hermione answered coldly. "She has a Gryffindor crest on her robes."

Everyone who had heard her, leaned their necks and checked. And sure enough she was right.

"It has to be a mistake. She's a Slytherin, always has been always will be," said Ron.

"Maybe she got sorted again. I highly doubt Dumbledore would just let her sit anywhere," Ginny imputed.

"But why here? Why couldn't she have stayed in the dungeons, where she belongs," he asked.

"The Sorting Hat is a powerful magical object. It reads your deepest thoughts and emotions to determine what house you fit in best. It must've believed Buffy belonged here, instead of Slytherin," Hermione knowledgeably answered. "Though I can't imagine why," she bitterly added.

Harry didn't make a single comment, didn't move his eyes from Buffy's figure. There must be a reason why she had changed houses. Something must've changed since the last time they saw her. Looking at her now the only thing he noticed was that she had grown older, but that was about it. What if she wasn't the same Buffy Summers they used to know?

The only movement she made was her eyes blinking and the subtle motion of her chest while she breathed. She heard every single thing they had said. Noticing how their tones were angry and disgusted, and she couldn't lie that it didn't hurt. But she couldn't blame them, she wasn't exactly Ms. Congeniality when she was younger. Especially to them.

They stared and they whispered, but no one approached her. There was quite a few feet of space between her and the next person, a very frightened Neville Longbottom. A boy who had every reason to stay as far away from her as possible. All in all, the day had turned just like she had expected, and it wasn't even over yet.

The doors of the Entrance Hall opened and everyone had finally, turned their attention to something else. Even Buffy had looked toward the doors-- for a second, because she then moved her eyes to Harry, who was still looking in her direction. Her face grew hot and she found it difficult to swallow. His face was unreadable and she couldn't take looking at him anymore without feeling guilty. So, she focused her attention on the first years that were currently being led inside by Professor McGonagall. Their nervous and wondrous eyes taking in every piece of magic they could.

She looked down the line and finally spotted Susie with the friends she had met on the train. Her bright blue eyes found her, and Buffy waved at her shortly. Smiling when she saw Susie's body relax as she waved back.

They had arrived at the stool and Sorting Hat. Their nervous faces waiting to see what surprise would meet them. Then came the song, the very long song that Buffy tuned out. All she understood was blah, blah, blah. Not very mature, but she wasn't exactly in the best of moods. The song ended and people clapped, and whispered about some warning Buffy had missed during the ordeal.

After giving an unapproving frown at the students for the restless behavior, Professor McGonagall stretched out the parchment in her hands and called for the first student.

"Abercrombie, Euan."

The terrified boy moved shakily up to the stool and took a seat. With the large hat covering most of his face, everyone waited to see who would be receiving the brand-new face.

"Gryffindor!" The hat shouted after its consideration, and the respective table applauded and cheered. Except for Buffy, who just sat there calmly, with her head resting on her propped up arm.

The boy ran to the table and took a seat close to her, seeing as she was closest to the front. She gave him a warm smile and wink, which made him blush. Together they turned back to the stool and waited for the rest of the kids to continue. One by one they moved, sat, and got sorted. Each table reacting at least once so far.

Finally came the part Buffy was waiting for.

"Lore, Susan!"

Susie was jittering a bit, but then remembered what Buffy had told her, 'you're gonna love Hogwarts!' That had brought her some ease. She could do this. It was only for a minute anyway, so setting her small jaw she confidently stepped forward and sat down.

Buffy waited anxiously for the brim to open. It surely wasn't taking as long as she felt it was, must be the nerves.

"Gryffindor!" Came the shout, and this time Buffy clapped along with everyone else.

Susie jumped off the stool and made a beeline for Buffy taking a seat right next to her, at least she had one friendly face.

"I did it! I'm in the same house as you," the girl said happily.

"Yep, right with me."

Buffy ruffled her gently, and then both girls watched the rest of the sorting. Oblivious to the fact that the majority of the table looked as though they had just seen a Blast-Ended Screwt. Buffy Summers was actually being . . . nice.

The last name was called and the sorting finished. Dumbledore rose from his seat and looked out to them cheerily.

"To our newcomers," he began, his arms outstretched and his smile beaming. "Welcome! To our old hands, and old faces-- " He turned his sparkling eyes to Buffy and set them there warmly. "Welcome back." The gesture wasn't lost on any of them, and their curiosity over Buffy rose. The Headmaster smiled at her, and then went back to face the crowd. "There is a time for speech making but this is not it. Tuck in!"

There was laughter and applause, but that quickly died away when the food popped before them. The food, she had definitely missed. There were cakes and tarts, sauces and puddings, pumpkin juice and chops. It was a feast for the eyes as well as for the stomach. Everyone dug in hungrily. Reaching for any piece of food nearest to them.

"Why are they all staring at you?" Susie whispered.

Looking up quickly she looked around. Everyone's heads suddenly snapping in another direction.

"It's long a story. I'll tell you about it later," she answered.

Shrugging it off Susie bit into her treacle tart and began to ask Buffy all sorts of questions about Hogwarts.

"Can you believe her? Acting like . . . like one of them," Pansy spat out.

"Its disgusting," Millicent sneered.

"She's nothing but a blood traitor. Isn't she Draco?"

He hadn't touched the food, hadn't moved his eyes, hadn't said a word. All of his current attention was on Buffy Summers. How many times had he wished for her return? For a single word from her over the years. Now here she was, back and no longer sitting beside him. He watched as she smiled and talked to the first years. Being kind and generous. Being a Gryffindor, and he felt betrayed.

"Draco?" Pansy asked.

"I heard you, Pansy. And you're right." Anger bubbled inside him, combining with the hurt. "She's nothing but a traitor."

Hearing the snarly words come out of his mouth, made Pansy's heart leap for joy. Buffy had always held Draco's attention. Buffy was his favorite. Now with her return Pansy feared that she might be replaced, but by the way Draco was looking at the blonde she knew her position by his side was safe. But Pansy never really knew Draco all that well, not like Buffy. She didn't know what his subtle gestures meant. Could interpret all the silent looks in his eyes. And that's what lulled Pansy into a false sense of security, she blissfully accepted.

Slowly everyone was beginning to chew on their last bites, filling themselves to the brim. Dumbledore having noticed it, seized the opportunity, and rose from his chair to gather their attention.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices. First years should know that the Forest is out of bounds to all students. A few older ones out to know that by now, too. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to remind you for what he assures me is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time that no magic is allowed along the corridors between classes, or otherwise. Nor are a number of other things, which can be checked on an extensive list found in Mr. Filch's office door. We've had some changes to our staffing this year. Please welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons. We are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our New Defense against the Dark Arts Teacher." There were a few claps, but only out of politeness. "Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place-"

He stopped suddenly and everyone wondered what had caused his pause. Then they noticed Professor Umbridge rise from her seat, clearing her throat in the most annoying manner.

"Thank you, Headmaster. For those kind words of welcome. Well it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy faces looking up at me!"

Her high-pitched voice made her cringe. She was sugar and spice and everything nauseating. Buffy already didn't like her, couldn't stand her. So she tuned out, something she often tends to do when she has to suffer through things that bore her.

The annoyance kept going, and going, and going. She caught the word Ministry from time to time, and Buffy didn't need it to be spelled out for her. She should be surprised, but with the way they've been acting it was only a matter time before they interfered in Hogwarts business.

Finally after droning on for ages, she sat down. Dumbledore rose again and continued the speech that had been interrupted by Ms. Unsightly Blemish. He finished informing them of Quidditch Tryouts and the usual yada yada yada.

She kept her eyes trained on the Headmaster as he finally excused the exhausted students. And when he secretly pointed to his office with a curt nod, she knew that's what she had been expecting.

"First years! This way!" Hermione ordered.

"I'll see you later ok?" Susie told her before rushing to the forming line.

She sat unmoving in her seat and watched her until she disappeared. The clusters formed again and they whispered, but still no one directly came to her. They watched her as they moved out, waiting to see what she would do. Which was the usual nothing she had been doing since she had arrived.

Harry hesitated. His friends weren't around and the hall was becoming empty. If he wanted to talk to her, this was his chance. He lingered by the tables, and waited for her attention. But she never gave it to him, and he took it at as sign, leaving her to sit alone.

She knew he had been wavering. Buffy felt him a few feet off, but she couldn't do a thing. It was easier to just ignore him, to be alone. Waiting a minute or two she finally rose from her seat, and walked to the door.

"Excuse Ms. Summers?" Professor McGonagall called out, catching up to her. "But are these your Cauldron Cakes?"

"What?" Buffy turned around and looked at the Deputy Headmistress.

"I asked if these were your Cauldron Cakes?"

Buffy looked down at the Professor's hands, and saw that they were empty. Looking up questioningly she was about to ask what she was taking about, when she noticed the stern and pleading look in her eyes. One plus one equals a light bulb, and Buffy had finally figured it out.

"Oh. Uh, no . . . those aren't mine," she politely refused.

"My mistake then," she nodded and walked away.

Following her lead Buffy also exited the hall, and unfortunately for her, there were still quite a few lingering bodies along the corridors. She ignored them all and went straight for the staircase. Knowing, their eyes were following her as she made her way to the Headmaster's office.

She stood before the gargoyle and ordered firmly. "Cauldron Cakes."

It groaned and scrapped as it moved, and Buffy happily stepped inside the revealed space as soon as there was enough room for her to pass through. She made it to the oak door in record time, and knocked on it, waiting for permission before entering.

"So, how has your day been so far?" he asked when she took the offered seat.

"A barrel of monkeys," she sarcastically replied.

"I can only imagine, but don't worry everything will sort itself out."

"So my mother keeps telling me," she mumbled.

"How were things on the train?" he asked, choosing to avoid her earlier muttering.

"Good, no disasterly evil plan to jump off the new school year."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Very good." He paused and leaned forward with clasped hands. "You do realize that it is up to you now, to watch over him."

"Yes, professor," she nodded.

"Good," he smiled warmly. "Why don't you go and get some rest. I'm sure you've had a long trip and could do with some goodnight sleep," he advised.

"Sleep sounds good," she said and rose from her seat. "You wouldn't happen to have the password to the dormitories, would you?"

"Yes of course." After painting a piece of parchment with ink, he handed it to Buffy. "Remember to destroy it when you are finished."

"I know," she nodded and walked to the door.

"Oh, and Ms. Summers it gets quite cold at night. I recommend keeping yourself bundled up, in the instance where you might find yourself up in the late hours," he slyly advised her.

"Right. I'll keep that in mind. Good night Headmaster," she bid and left the office. Feeling less guilty now that she had gotten the ok from Dumbledore, cause lets face it, she was going to sneak out anyway.

Stepping out into the open staircases, it felt so strange going to her house, and not have it be in the dungeons. Right now she would be feeling the freezing air that she had become immune to, and meet the stone wall that hid the doorway to the common room. Excited to see her friends.

Now, she was dreading every step leading to the seventh floor. Feeling completely weird in giving the password to the Fat Lady. It was all just way too freaky, and more than terrifying.

"Oh, Ms. Summers, I've heard of your return. Quite the news today, it was. Glad to see you're no longer in those dingy old dungeons. You'll be much happier up here, as long as you don't cause trouble that is."

"Uh, yeah ok. Um, Mimbulus mimbletonia," she uttered.

"Correct."

And that's when the hinges began to squeak. It almost felt like she were heading into one of the those inquisitions she had learned about in Sunnydale. Being thrown into a pit of snakes, or in this case lions. Her hands were feeling clammy and cold, her heart ready to burst. A low chill running up and down her spine.

Forcing her eyes to remain open she watched as the portrait swung to the side, revealing a circular hole in the wall. So, taking a deep breath she stiffened her back and stepped through.

* * *

Note: And the house has been revealed! Congratulations to all the detective minds who have figured it out. I hope this doesn't mean you'll stop reading, now that you've found out the mystery. 


	11. Chapter 11

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

"Have you gone completely mad?!"

"What? I just-"

"Do you know how dangerous it was, pulling a stunt like that?!"

"I know but-"

"After you've been told time, and time again!"

"Joyce, I-"

"Do you ever THINK Sirius!"

She arrived before they did and was waiting expectantly in the entryway, foot tapping and arms crossed. The moment he had stepped foot into the house she demanded he change back and ripped right into him.

"Yeah, I do think!" he shot out, not taking the attack lying down. "I think about how everyone can just come and go as they please, while I'm stuck inside this wretched house! But I don't expect you to understand that!"

"This isn't about understanding. This is about you being wreck less! This isn't like when you were younger, and started to rebel against everything! Lives are at stake here!"

"I know perfectly well what's at stake!"

"Do you? Cause you're sure acting like you don't."

"How would you know how I'm acting? Don't pretend that you know me. You haven't been around the past years!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that a lot of things have changed Joyce, I'm not the same kid you knew back then."

She was sure he didn't mean it that way, but it felt like a slap in the face nevertheless. His words stung her and she couldn't bare looking at him anymore as she lowered her eyes.

"You're right, I probably don't," she admitted softly. She raised her eyes from the floor once again and peered into his gray ones. "Maybe I never did." And with a pop she was gone.

He wanted to throw something, hit something, scream at the top of his lungs. The hurt in her eyes didn't help with his anger, it just directed back toward himself. Merlin what he wouldn't give for a firewhiskey right about now. He clenched his fists as he grumbled lowly under his breath, with certain rude words, and trumped up the stairs. To enclose himself in a dimly lit room with a bottle of whatever he could find.

"Well that was . . . uncomfortable," Remus commented, the group still lingering in the hall.

"Do you think they knew we were here?" Tonks asked sarcastically. Except the whole lot ignored her, mostly due to the loud screaming that had started as soon as Joyce let out the first yell.

"Come on, we better get those curtains shut," Mad-Eye ordered already heading to Mrs. Black's portrait.

"You'd think her screeching would've been enough to catch their attention," Mrs. Weasley muttered heading up the stairway.

"I just hope Buffy's having better luck," Remus mumbled to himself, as he followed Moody up the stairs to stop the screeching that would surely cause his ears to bleed any second now.

* * *

It was warm and friendly, of course that only applied to the furniture.

They had stopped whatever they were doing and watched, or glared more precisely, as she entered the room. They seemed to be gathered to one side, Harry standing in the middle. His face with remaining traces of anger, and when Buffy saw one of the kids holding the Daily Prophet she figured out why. The morons had believed the idiotic paper, and knowing that piece of information she looked at the gathering more clearly. They had ambushed him. Beaten him to a corner as they pounced with their no doubt stupid opinions about his so-called lies. Fortunately for Harry, she chose that very moment to waltz in. No doubt giving him a much needed for distraction.

Buffy and the rest of the room faced off for a beat. No one said anything, as they angrily watched her. And not being able to take it anymore she avoided eye contact yet again, and moved past them heading toward the stairs.

"Where'd you think you're going?"

She should've known it wouldn't 've been easy. Taking a deep breath she calmed her annoyance and turned around.

"Upstairs," she answered calmly.

"And you think we're just going to let you off, just like that," Ron asked her.

She glanced around the room and noticed that the people she knew inched closer, almost like a pack of wolves.

"'D you think we'd forget. That we'd just brush off how you treated us, and act like we were best mates?"

She didn't know why, but she looked to Harry. Maybe some part of her believed he would step in, but he didn't. He wasn't even looking at her, and it stung.

"Look, I'm s-" Buffy began.

"Don't you dare apologize to us," Hermione cut in. "Not after how you treated us."

Buffy looked at her and saw the girl's eyes burning in rage. Everyone else looking at her in the same blaze.

"What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be down in the dungeons with the rest of your kind," Seamus spat.

"Back with the rats and snakes," some girl she didn't recognize snapped.

Bite your tongue Buffy, bite your tongue. Her rage was brimming the surface, and the only thing keeping it in control was her guilt trip for how she had treated them in the past. That didn't mean it was easy though. They encircled her like predators, and Buffy was not doing well with feeling like prey. Her slayer instincts were urging her to go on the attack. It's what's she's been taught. Kill or be killed, except these weren't vampires or demons. Which was lucky for them.

Ron stepped forward from the crowd. Why wasn't she saying anything? At this point she would've spouted off already. Treating them like the dirt beneath her shoes. She was probably speechless, good. They weren't the same kids they were before she left. Things were different now, and she was in their territory.

"You. Don't. Belong. Here," he told her coldly.

It would've hurt a lot more if she didn't know that already. They acted like she chose to be here. Had it been years earlier she would've retaliated with some snide comment. Had it been just months ago, she would've reacted like the meek little Buffy she was around Cordelia. But she was neither of those personalities anymore. She didn't know who she was at this point. But one thing was for sure, she wasn't going to show weakness.

"Apparently the Sorting Hat thinks I do, and if you don't like it-- talk to Dumbledore," she spoke up, acting like their words just rolled right off her back. "Now, if you'll excuse me, it's been a long day and I could really use some sleep."

Buffy brushed by him without another word and headed up the stairs. Thank Merlin for Sirius and Remus explaining the Gryffindor Tower. Who knows what would've happened if she had to have asked any of them for help. They'd probably send her up the stairs and right out a window.

"One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . and . . . "

Pushing the door aside, she found her trunk laying at the end of the bed nearest to her. Giving her easy access to an exit, thank you Dumbledore. Grateful that the room was empty she hurried to her trunk and opened it. Taking out her pajamas and what nots. Her hand halted mid reach when she found two wrapped packages beneath her clothes. Second guessing the could be bombs, she shrugged and cautiously bundled them up in her pj's. She grabbed some other junk and closed the trunk firmly. Climbing back to her bed she pulled the heavy curtains all around her. Firmly cutting herself off from the rest of her dorm mates, who were oh so happy to see her return.

With all the finesse of her stealth training Buffy had managed to remove her uniform and slip into a very heavenly pair of sweat pants, and warm thermal shirt. Picking up one of the packages, a small rectangular thing wrapped in brown paper, she undid the twine and removed the wrapping. Her eyebrows knitted she found a worn-out notebook with a blank and fading brown cover. Prying the thing open, she was surprised in finding a small note fluttering to the bed. Unfolding it, she smiled when she noticed the scratchy letters.

'Use it wisely and keep it hidden. Best of luck.'

Setting the paper aside she looked into the book and found it filled with spells and incantations written in the same scratchy handwriting. Looks like Remus was keeping a few things hidden from the rest of them. Flipping through the pages, her eyes widened in delight when she found more than a few that she was dying to try. Not any of them on her house mates of course, cause you know-- that would be wrong. Shaking her head from the devilish ideas that were seeping through, she lay the book aside and went to open her next gift.

This was definitely not what she was expecting. Reading the note sticking to the thing, she smiled. 'In case you ever get lonely. Write soon, Sirius.' A small portable stereo with a collection of her CD's lay on her bed. She didn't know how he did it, but if Sirius managed to make motorcycles fly, than she was positive he could make CD's play. Popping one in the deck she tested it out, of course not before placing the handy dandy headphones that came with, over her ears. Soon the strumming guitar and voice of Alanis Morissette filled her head.

Cleaning up the surrounding mess she cleared the wrapping paper away, tucked the book underneath her pillow and snuggled into her bed. The radio placed firmly beside her and the headphones glued in place, she closed her eyes and thought back to minutes ago. The shocks and tingles of nerves and anger shooting through her skin. The feeling was so much worse than she was expecting. She knew how they would react-- angry, bitter and resentful. What she didn't expect were her own strong feelings toward it.

She was alone. The people down there hated her, and they made sure she knew it. Her friends were thousands of miles away. Sirius, Remus and her mom might as well be in Nepal. This wasn't home. And all the craving she had for returning, just months earlier, melted away to loneliness and sorrow. She sniffled as a few stray tears rolled down her cheeks. Karma was definitely a bitch, and it looked like Hogwarts seemed to agree with it. Stupid Sorting Hat, probably only did this to her to have a great old laugh. If only she had that mangy thing in her hands right now, she would rip it apart piece by piece.

The curtains moved a bit, pulling Buffy out of her hat scheming. Moving aside one of the earpieces she heard as the rest of the girls entered the dormitory.

"Can you believe she's back?"

"And in our dormitory no less."

"It's horrible if you ask me." The voices of Lavender and Parvati wafted through the drapes.

"What do you think Hermione?"

There was a short pause, and Buffy stiffened. "If Dumbledore agrees that she belongs in Gryffindor, than I guess there's nothing that can be done about it. She just better watch herself, that's all I'm saying."

Their voices were low, almost like they were giving courtesy in case she was sleeping. They muffled a few other undesirable words and then Buffy heard their shuffling as they went to bed. Adjusting her headphones, she sagged back into the mattress and relayed all she had heard. How in the hell was she going to get through this year? Especially when it seems that Harry wanted nothing to do with her. She could understand some part of that, mostly because it was her fault. But some part of her believed that he would've forgiven her. And as much as she tried convincing herself that all she wanted was to be left alone, she knew that Harry didn't fit into that category. Neither did Draco for that matter. She saw the way he looked at her in the Hall. His face stony, but the relaxed way his jaw was set meant that he wasn't furious as she thought he would be. His neck wasn't stiff or haughty, meaning he was upset about something. Her most likely.

She had missed him so much over the years. Every time she picked up a quill to write, she didn't know what to say. The words rolling around in her head were unable to find themselves on the parchment. He would never forgive her for abandoning him. For returning and not being by his side like she used to be. She just wasn't a Slytherin anymore. What made them the green and silver's didn't apply to her now. Things were different. She was different. Even if some small part of her wanted to go back to how she used to be, even if it was only for Draco.

Sighing, she turned to her side and stared out into space. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Not only did she feel alone, she also felt lost. Maybe this just wasn't her world anymore. She didn't belong here, not like she used to. She knew her place then. Her father sought to that. It was all those ideas he had put into her head while raising her. She was daddy's little princess, and no one could tell her other wise.

* * *

Years Earlier . . .

Walking down the corridor she heard his snobby voice as she neared the compartment, rolling her eyes at his idiotic behavior.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."

Stopping beside him, she leaned against the doorway and sighed.

"Draco, what are you doing now?"

She had her arms crossed over her chest and a very bored expression on her face.

"Just having a little fun," he smirked in her direction.

"Well I suggest you end it before you get caught."

"And who's going to stop me, you?" The very idea of it laughable to Draco and his cronies.

"You really are thick aren't you? Must I remind you that prefects patrol the corridors, and if they find you here doing what you do best, you can bet your father will get wind of it. And I don't think he'd be too pleased in finding out about you getting into trouble before classes even start."

The fear in his eyes was evident, and without a word Draco brushed by her with Crabbe and Goyle trailing him faithfully. Idiot she thought, as she turned back to the carriage and looked at the two surprised boys sitting there.

"Uh, thank you, for that," the dark-haired one said.

"I didn't do it for you," she replied snobbishly.

While she was busy inviting herself in and taking a seat, the two boys looked at each other, both taken completely aback at her attitude.

"So it's true then, you're Harry Potter," she said not impressed by it at all.

"Oh, er, yeah that's me," he replied, then feeling like an idiot for it. "Um, this is-"

"I didn't ask."

Harry and Ron shared stunned looks, watching her as she looked around the compartment calmly.

"Bit of disappointment really. Thought you'd bigger and all that, or at least taller. Guess someone really shouldn't buy into those rumors and stories going on about you. It's only a let down when you meet the real thing."

She snapped her uncaring attention to their aghast faces, looking them in the eyes for a second before turning away and speaking cooly. "Well, I guess I better get going. Make sure Draco hasn't gotten himself into any other messes he won't be able to get himself out of."

Rising from her seat she moved to the door, and without so much as a glance backward she walked away.

"Who the bloody hell was that?" Ron asked taken aback.

"Don't know," Harry mumbled.

* * *

Note: Ahhh! Late update, sorry. But you know how life can be, always getting the way of enjoyable things. I want to thank so much for all the great feedback. It's really wonderful. I've also been wresting with another story I can't seem to get out of my head, and I'm not sure if I should start writing it. What do you guys think? 


	12. Chapter 12

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

"Hermione. Looks like you made it through the night," Ron greeted as he and Harry met her in the common room.

"How is she?" Harry asked in concern.

His best friends shared a look at his sympathetic tone, but decided to ignore it. Maybe he just sounded that way because of how the students had treated him last night. Yeah, sure that was it– some left over emotions.

"I wouldn't know," Hermione answered. "When I reached the dormitory she was hidden away behind her bed-drapes, and when I woke up this morning she was already gone."

"Probably off to meet with her Slytherin friends," Ron sneered.

Harry tuned them out and went off to his little Buffy world. He should've said something last night. The way they had torn into her, it was unbearable to watch. It didn't help that he was already in a fit of rage when she made her presence, and when he saw her it only doubled. He had heard Ron's threatening tone when he talked to her, and as angry as he was with her, he didn't like it one bit. A sear of protectiveness took over him, and he was very close to doing something very regrettable to his friend. What was it about Buffy that caused him to act that way?

Even when she was a bitc– a not so nice person, she had intrigued him from the first moment he had met her. There was just something about her, of course that didn't mean he was blind to all her faults either. She was mean, rude and a snob. Treating everyone like they were nothing more than pieces of lint that got in her way. He had been at the end of some of her verbal attacks, just like Ron and Hermione– and pretty much everyone else she talked to. He knew how mean she could be, but that never stopped him from wondering about her. Even when he couldn't stand the sight of her. She intrigued him yes, but he still held a certain amount of dislike for her in those days, just like he did with Malfoy, maybe even more so. But then in his second year everything changed. Their whole relationship changed, a relationship that no one knew about.

"Harry? Are you all right?" Hermione asked. He had been quiet for some time and held an odd look on his face.

"I'm fine," he mumbled absently.

He must've been out of it for quite sometime, because the next thing he knew he was in the Great Hall. Where the stares and hush words continued in his direction. Ignoring them he quickly ran his eyes over the Gryffindor table looking for Buffy, but she wasn't there. Switching views and moving to the Slytherin table with butterflies in his stomach he didn't see her there either, or anywhere else for that matter. He gave a slight frown at that. Where was she?

Hoping to distract himself he looked over to the staff table, watching as Professor Grubbly-Plank chatted with Professor Sinistra. But that didn't help to improve his mood either, Hagrid was still missing.

"Dumbledore didn't even mention how long that Grubbly-Plank woman would be staying," Harry commented, heading toward their house table.

"Maybe . . . " Hermione began.

"What?" Ron asked.

"Maybe he didn't want to draw attention to it."

"Not draw attention to it? It's kinda hard not to notice."

Before Harry could put his two cents in Angelina Johnson had come over to their spot. Quickly informing Harry that she had been made Quidditch captain. Then telling him that she wanted all the Gryffindor team members there, when she held tryouts for the open position of Keeper since Oliver had left. And as soon as she had come, she left.

The next thing he heard was the rush of owls coming into the castle. He watched as the rain soaked birds delivered their letters and things, semi-disappointed that Hedwig was nowhere to be found. But it had only been twenty-four hours since he last saw Sirius, how much could he really write. With a large amount of distaste Harry watched as Hermione unfurled her copy of the Daily Prophet. Voicing his displeasure to the brunette, and receiving a reasonable explanation as always afterward, before she quietly scanned the pages.

"Nothing," Hermione commented after reading through the paper. "About you, about Dumbledore. About anything," she irritably said, rolling up the paper and setting it aside.

Professor McGonagall was now moving through the students, handing them each their schedules. Receiving his, Harry couldn't help but let out a groan. History of Magic, double Potions, Divination and double Defense Against the Dark Arts, as far as Mondays went-- it sucked.

Ron mentioned something about using the Twins un-yet patented Skiving Snackboxes to get out of lessons, making his feelings about the classes very clear and attracting the pranksters' attention. That had lead to talk about OWLs and Fred and George informing them about the many illnesses and maladies students had gone under, while worrying and studying for the unmerciful exams. And the almost ball dropping of how the Twins had gotten the money to open up a still idea-only joke shop. But they kept Hermione and Ron wondering when they left the trio be, and headed off to do some market research.

Harry decided to turn the conversation another way, before his friends found out that he was the one who had given Fred and George his winnings from the TriWizard tournament as start up costs.

"Do you reckon it's true, about this year being really tough because of exams?" he asked them.

"Bound to be, isn't it? OWLs are really important, they can affect the job you're applying for and everything," Ron informed him. "Bill told me we get career advice this year too."

"Do you both know what you wanna do, after Hogwarts I mean?" Harry continued with his questions, as they left for History of Magic.

"Well . . . it'd be cool to be an Auror," Ron answered sheepishly.

"Yeah, it would," he heavily agreed.

"But you've got be really good, they're like the elite," he said almost unsurely. "What about you Hermione?"

"I'm not sure, but I'd like to do something worthwhile," she answered.

"Being an Auror's worthwhile," Harry stood-up, sightly upset at her indication.

"Yes it is, but it's not the only worthwhile thing. I mean if I could take SPEW further than I . . . " And the white buzzing noise filled the ears of Ron and Harry.

Stepping into the classroom, Harry momentarily froze. Buffy was sitting quietly in the last chair, in the last row, reading a book in her hands. For a brief moment he had forgotten all about her. Then it all came rushing back.

"Come on. We'd better find a seat closer to the front. Away from all things unsightly!" Hermione loudly exclaimed. Both she and Ron shooting the blonde girl hateful glares.

Harry looked at her sympathetically, if Hermione's words had affected her she didn't show it. Following Ron's footsteps he kept his eyes trained on Buffy, waiting for some kind of reaction.

"Why do you keep looking at her like that?" Ron asked him, as they took their seats.

"Like what?" Harry questioned, tearing his eyes away from Buffy and looking toward the redhead.

"Like . . . I don't know, like she just kicked your puppy or something."

"Didn't know I was," Harry shrugged. "I'm just wondering what she's doing back. I still find it strange that she just appeared out of nowhere."

"Well, good luck with that mate. Because frankly, I don't care. She should've stayed away. I'd be perfectly happy if I never see her again."

There was that tone in Ron's voice again, and there was that angry rise inside Harry again. Clenching his fist, he let it slide. After all Ron did have his reasons, and he was lucky Harry was so understanding of them.

The students began to stream in, everyone avoiding the seat beside Buffy like the plague. That didn't stop them however, from whispering and sending her some very heated scowls. Everyone took their seats as quickly as possible, leaving any strays to take the unwanted chair. But as luck would have it, the class was at an odd number. Leaving Buffy happily to her lonesome.

Professors Binns finally floated into the room to start the 'riveting' lectures he was known for, and about two minutes later the majority of the class was dozing off. Except for three people that is. Hermione who believed not being alert in any class should be ruled a sin, Harry who kept turning back every few minutes to look at the girl everyone else seemed to be looking at as well. And said blonde girl, who surprised all of them by keeping up with the professor and taking notes heavily. The enigma that was the resurrected Buffy Summers growing larger. When had Buffy ever cared about school?

The bell rang, startling those who were in a semi-asleep state, and filling the room with noise as the students packed up to leave. Those passing by Buffy's chair, made sure to huff and glare menacingly. Whatever that expected to achieve she had no idea. Taking her things she calmly placed them in her bag and then rose from her seat. Taking one last look around to make sure she hadn't missed anything. A second later the Golden Trio passed by her. Hermione ignored her pointedly, Ron gave her the kill-eyes, and Harry . . . well Harry flitted his unreadable eyes to her for a second before looking away. He sure knew how to hurt, without knowing he was causing the hurting. Not for the first time had she wished she knew Harry as well as she knew Draco, than nothing would be unreadable when she looked at him.

Nodding to herself that life was just not going to ever work out her way Buffy walked out of the room. Passing by crowds and gaggles, she ignored all the 'watch where you're going''s when she never even bumped into anybody, and the 'she should've just stayed gone''s that everyone felt the need to repeat. And for the first time Buffy had felt blessed to have known Cordelia Chase. Her months of Buffy picking, helped to cast a stone shell that deflected insults and harsh words. Making staying here just a little more bearable . . . who was she kidding it still sucked.

Glancing at her watch, she tried to figure out what to do with her break. It's not like she could exactly spend it with her friends, cause that would be kinda hard considering she didn't have any. Resigning to her lonely fate Buffy made her way to the dungeons. Attaining a seat as far away from the rest of the soon filled class as possible. Placing her book bag down in a corner chair, she walked around the room. The very dark and creepy room. Jars of once crawly things now lay motionless, suspended or mushed. She had faced some very icky things in her slayer days, gooey monsters, slimy demons, but even these things were giving her the chills. It's always the creepy, crawly things isn't it.

The only time she had to see things like this in Sunnydale, was when Giles had to perform Wiccan spells to stop what couldn't be slain. Snape popping into her mind whenever her watcher explained the appropriate ways to mix a potion. That was deja vu at its best. And of course Buffy had to pretend she had no idea what he was talking about, or that she couldn't pronounce the ingredients. All part of the dumb blonde routine, so they wouldn't suspect anything. Which was futile in Giles's case considering he had known all about her witchiness.

The bell rang again making Buffy jump in surprise. Quickly rushing to her seat she pulled out her potions book and began to read. Three minutes later the students began to file in. Giving her the same warm greeting they had been since this morning. The 'Avoid the Chair' game began again, but this time one student wasn't so lucky. It always has to be poor Neville Longbottom doesn't it. Buffy could actually see him shake out of the corner of her eye as he sat down. Pretending not to notice him she went back to her book. She wasn't exactly feeling like a Chatty Cathy anyway. She could a hear a few 'poor Neville''s and some 'she better keep her words to herself''s and it made her chuckle inside. On any other day these people wouldn't give Neville the time of day, but now that she was involved he was suddenly their business. High School politics seem to transcend all educational and supernatural levels. Wasn't that great?

"Settle down." Snape's cold voice ordered as he swept into the room. The door shutting soundly behind him.

No other words needed to be used. The voices firmly stopped and the bodies quickly stiffened in attention. Except for rebel Buffy who still kept her relaxed figure and her eyes trained on her book, but perked her ears for information– and if Professor Snape noticed he didn't say a word.

"Before we begin today's lesson. I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting in on an important examination . . . " And yada yada yada. " . . . I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your OWL, or suffer my . . . displeasure."

Buffy felt his eyes linger in the direction of their table. Looking up she noticed as Mr. I-Never-Wash-My-Hair gazed upon Neville, and she actually heard the kid gulp. Then watched as Professor Snape turned his beady eyes to her hoping to intimidate. Looks like someone had forgotten about her being a slayer, and the fact that she had face all kinds of under the bed monsters.

Finally the 'potions master' looked away, pretending that it was do to his own choosing and not her unwillingness to back down, and went on with the lecture. After droning on about OWLs he finally presented their assignment. The Draught of Peace. Moving aside her book she got up and gathered all of her ingredients. Causing a very awkward moment when she stood beside Draco at the same time he went to gather his. He never acknowledged her presence, but she saw that muscle clenching in his jaw. Meaning he was fighting with himself about the situation. Resisting an impulse.

Avoiding any peak at her he moved to his table, and it was only then did he sneak a glance. Watching her secretly as she resumed her seat, and for once in his entire existence had he actually felt jealous of Neville Longbottom. The thought made him shudder, but he couldn't deny it. Oh he could hate it, but he couldn't deny it.

"Draco are you all right? You look strange," Pansy asked in concern.

"I'm fine Pansy," he replied.

"Are you sure?"

"I said I'm fine," he gritted.

She clamped her mouth shut and pouted. Why was he being so mean? He wasn't like this last year. Maybe he's just upset because of OWLs, yeah that's it. He's just a little bit stressed that's all. One thing was for sure, Pansy Parkinson was an idiot.

Buffy only now realized that Giles's meticulous nature and heavy pushing of her to learn about basic spells, was a God send. That and high school science. Keeping calm under the pressure that was known as potions making, she followed each and every step to a T. 'Salagadoola, mechicka boola bibbidi-bobbidi-boo. Put 'em together and what have you got? Bippity-boppity-boo.' That was one catchy tune she must say. Adding another ingredient, she couldn't help but notice Neville's trembling hand. She had almost forgotten how bad he was at this, and how much she had teased him because of it.

'Little Neville Longbottom, two left hands and two left feet, two pairs of ears and not a brain cell in between.' Oh how she had made her mother proud that day. If her mother had in fact known what kind of tyrant her daughter used to be, there was not doubt in Buffy's mind that she would've never seen sunlight whenever she went home for Summer break.

"You need to stir it anticlockwise," she softly whispered.

He almost dropped the vial in his hand when he heard her voice. Snapping his wide nervous eyes to her.

"After the wormwood, you have to stir it anticlockwise," Buffy gently told him.

Not saying another word, she went back to her own work and continued. Neville wasn't so sure he should trust her, after all this was Buffy Summers. But noticing how her potion seemed to be having the desired effect, he figured what could he lose. It's not like he could mess up it any further than he already was.

Interestingly enough it worked, sort of. The cauldron was supposed to be emitting a silvery vapor, while his was a somewhat medium light gray, and rather thick. Still, not to bad considering.

"Th-thank you," he said softly, and Buffy only nodded and smiled gently in response.

The class continued on and they spoke no other words to each other. Several minutes later Buffy heard the malicious drawl.

"Potter, what is that supposed to be?" Snape questioned, in what Buffy knew was hidden glee.

"The Draught of Peace," Harry clipped.

Then came the round of 'Pick on Potter' as Snape humiliated Harry in front of the whole class. Even back when Buffy was Little Miss Narcissistic County, she had felt some sympathy toward him when Snape was being a git. Of course she never defended him, because that was just unacceptable. She had an image to obtain, so eventually she just tuned out his ripping on Harry. Kinda like what she was doing now, she hated to admit. Though the near snapping of the vial in her hand proved that she was close to snapping herself.

"Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name and bring it up to my desk for testing. Homework: Twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion making, to be handed in on Thursday," Professor Snape instructed.

Filling up the flagon with her potion, she labeled it appropriately and headed up to Snape's desk.

"Ms. Summers. Let's see what we got here," he sneered, grabbing the object from her hands roughly and inspecting it.

The students around her waited for Snape to scorn her for what they were sure was a bad batch. However they noticed that the scowl on his face deepened even more when he found nothing physically wrong with her potion.

"Anything else Professor?" she asked politely, causing a few kids to gasp quietly and take a half-inch step back.

Professor Snape said nothing, and grimaced at the fact that there was nothing he could berate Buffy for. The girl was definitely going to be a thorn in his every side.

Smiling shortly and with a knowing look in her eye, Buffy walked back to her table. Nonverbally going back to her previously abandoned book, waiting for the bell to ring. Maybe this class wasn't going to be so bad after all.

* * *

Note: Love, love, love your reviews. Keep 'em coming please. And as for the whole third story thing, I think I'm just gonna wait until I finish at least one of my non-complete ones first. :) 


	13. Chapter 13

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

Bicker. Bicker. Bicker. That's all they every do. Don't they realize how irritating it could be? Huffing loudly the cold feeling of guilt rushed within him. He knew he shouldn't 've yelled at them like that, but he couldn't take it anymore. Their shocked faces still dancing before his eyes after he let them have it, and then stormed out of the Hall during lunch. Leaving him to end up sitting underneath the trap door at the top of the North Tower alone. Grumbling and seething. His irrate anger rising again.

The bell signaling the end of lunch finally rang and Harry made his way up the ladder quickly, taking a shadowed seat in the corner. Brooding as he waited for the class to start. Then half a minute later his anger was momentarily forgotten. His body remaining perfectly still, watching anxiously as a delicate blonde head pulled through the classroom opening.

She was dreading coming to this class. Professor Trelawney maybe a loon but she did hit things on the mark at times. Took Buffy a few years to figure that out. She remembered laughing it off when Trelawney had predicated monsters and darkness in her future, well who's laughing now. God, only knows what she would say to her this year.

There was a prick at her mind, and Buffy realized someone was watching her. And she found him sitting in a darkened corner. Standing perfectly still she let her eyes linger on him. He was alone. The air seemed to thicken slightly and the shadows appeared brighter. There was so much she wanted to say to him. So much that had gone on in her life since the last time she talked to him. Not even noticing she was moving, she watched as he rose from his chair. His eyes fixated on her. She was getting close to him now and her palms began to sweat, and she tried reading his eyes again but they were still as unclear to her as before.

Then a sudden rush of oncoming noise filtered their minds, breaking them out of their trance. Shaking them up for a moment, before leaving them to feel awkward. Buffy was the first to look away and without word she walked to the opposite end of the room. Taking a seat far from his. Harry didn't know how to take that, was she trying to get away from him? Before he could delve deeper into his wondering, the onslaught of students walked in. Earning the return of his annoyance. Plopping down into his chair in frustration, he let his eyes hover on her unabashedly.

"You're looking at her like that again," Ron said, sliding beside him.

"So what if I am," Harry bit out.

Giving a heavy sigh Ron already didn't like where this was going. Something very strange was going on between Harry and Buffy. Not once had he heard his friend complain about the girl like everyone else had been, and he kept looking at her in the most odd of ways. Hermione had even mentioned it to him, but they both chalked it all up to the recent problems Harry had been having. Their dark-haired friend wasn't really in the most keen of moods lately, so they figured that must be the reason for his behavior. And it wasn't like they were going to ask, he might just bite their heads off or something.

"Hermione and me have stopped arguing," Ron confessed.

"Good," he grunted.

"But Hermione thinks it would be nice if you stopped taking out your anger on us."

"I'm not-"

"I'm just passing along the message." And before the conversation could continue Professor Trelawney had started the class.

Throughout the period Buffy kept praying that the 'seer' would steer clear of her table. The one she sat in alone. Keeping to herself she just took the necessary notes and read the book that had been assigned. Going well past the required texts. The entire time she read, the nagging feeling of Harry's eyes on her didn't stop. She peaked up once and while, then uneasily lowered her eyes again. Buffy was positive Ron was fully aware of this, but by the look on his face he wasn't exactly too pleased with it. Meaning his kill-you look will only get worse.

The class had ended, Professor Trelawney instructing them to keep a dream diary for a month, meaning adding more homework to their already busy pile. Buffy waited until they all left the room before exiting herself. Not really looking forward to passing anybody on the ladder, who might just 'accidentally' push her off. On her way toward Defense Against the Dark Arts she wondered what kind of lies she was going to put in her journal. Because the very idea of putting her very real and disturbing dreams on paper was not something, she was willing to do.

Arriving after the other students hadn't actually been her plan for the day, and she was doing well so far. But eventually it was going to be unavoidable. All the seats had been taken, especially the ones in the back. Looking around calmly, betraying every nerve in her body, she searched for the only empty chair that had to be left. Walking tall and proud she passed by the disdained looks people seemed to have glued to their faces, and moved to the only available spot. Next to Neville, and was she surprised when he removed his books from the chair and gave her a small smile. Had he been saving the seat for her? That was just . . . heart-warmingly odd. Not knowing what to say to that, she only smiled in surprise and appreciation before sitting down.

"Well, good afternoon!" Professor Umbridge announced. The crawlies moving up Buffy's skin at hearing the sickening sweet voice.

Apparently not satisfied with the way the class had greeted her, Umbridge instructed them on how to greet her the _proper_ way. 'Good afternoon Professor Umbridge!' the students proclaimed, earning a satisfied creepy smile from the teacher.

"There, now. That wasn't too difficult, was it?" Yes. "Wands away and quills out, please."

There were murmured groans and spiteful eyes, and Buffy was glad that this time they weren't directed at her. The pink poofy thing that was known as Professor Umbridge, took out her own wand and tapped on the blackboard sharply, producing the following words to appear: _Defense Against the Dark Arts A Return to Basic Principles_. Then turned around to face them, with her grubby hands clasped before her.

"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it? The constant changing of teachers . . . " Blah blah blah. " . . . resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year . . . " Blah blah blah. " . . . Ministry approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."

You know time seems to move a lot faster when you're not listening. The writing on the board was swiped away by three sentences that the students quickly copied down. Waiting until the last quill had scratched Professor Umbridge inquired as to wether they had their copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard. Once again not liking their responses, she told exactly how she would like to be answered. And Buffy was thinking exactly how she would like to shove the book up her ar--

"Good," Umbridge drawled, once everyone answered her in her preferred way. "I should like you to turn to page five and read 'Chapter One, Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk."

The sound of pages turning was all that was heard, before a boring-some quiet settled in. Sinking her head on her propped up arm, Buffy began to read. It wasn't exactly what she had expected from this class, but at least there wouldn't be any need to interact with anyone else, which was perfect in her opinion.

Minutes ticked by and Buffy began to notice that everyone's attention seemed to trickle in another direction. Following their lead she watched as Hermione Granger's hand strained tirelessly in the air, trying to catch the uncooperative teacher's attention. Not really caring on how this played out, Buffy went back to the pages before her. But the gossip girl in her kept her ears open just in case, and she wasn't disappointed.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" Professor Umbridge finally relented.

"Not about the chapter no," Hermione replied.

"Well, we're reading just now. If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class," came the brush off.

"I've got a query about your course aims," she pushed on.

"And your name is?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Well, Miss Granger. I think the aims are perfectly clear if you read them carefully," Umbridge determined sweetly.

"Well, I don't. There's nothing there about using defensive spells."

There was a pause as the students looked at the blackboard and frowned, noticing Hermione was right.

"Using defensive spells?" Umbridge snorted. "Why I can't imagine any use of defensive spells in my classroom. You aren't expecting to be attacked in my class are you?"

"We're not using magic," Ron interrupted.

"Students raise their hands when they speak Mr . . . ?" Ms. Pink Annoyance trailed.

"Weasley," Ron responded, his hand already in the air.

For the next few rounds students thrust their hands in the air with the same outrage as Ron and Hermione. They were not, repeat, they were not going to learn defensive spells because the Ministry refused to teach them. Professor Umbridge repeating over and over that there was no use in learning them in her classroom. And to the Toad's displeasure Harry had actually made some valid points against her little theory. Leading to Ten Points being taken away from their house, but Harry still pushed on.

Buffy, who had been quiet throughout the ordeal listened intently. Though acting like she hadn't been. Learn your enemy, Giles voiced in her head. Search their weaknesses and strengths, and use it against them. After taking in the entirety of the questions and answers that had been going on around her, Buffy weighed Umbridge in her head, which was no easy task. The nuisance of a woman reminded her so much of Principal Snyder, and knowing the little troll as she did, she figured out they had the same thing in common. They craved order, and discipline. And the only way to bring them down a few notches was to put a wrench in their way of thinking. And it wouldn't hurt to use her old Buffy ways to do it.

Calmly lifting her head and raising her hand Buffy waited for Professor Umbridge to take notice.

"Yes Miss . . . ?" The pink eyesore acknowledged her.

"Buffy Summers," she replied politely.

Everyone turned at the sound of her voice curiously, and watched as she lay her hands clasped over her desk patiently. This was going to be interesting, they knew that much.

"Yes, Miss Summers," Professor Umbridge encouraged.

"Would you mind if I asked you a few questions professor?"

"No, of course not dear," she smiled sweetly. Dolores Umbridge took a quick shine to Buffy then. The girl was polite and looked well mannered. A respectable young woman.

"Do you believe the world to be perfect, professor?"

That had caused the professor to pause, and the students to be filled with confusion. That was definitely an odd question, but she had already agreed to answer her queries. And backing out of it now, wouldn't serve the kind of impression she wanted to make.

"No, unfortunately not, dear. It seems there are a few people." She gave Harry Potter a quick look of disapproval before she continued. "Who just don't seem to understand decorum," Professor Umbridge responded.

"So in a world with imperfections, there must be a sense of order. Someone to impute the rules and regulations to decide what is best for us, right?"

"Yes of course, dear."

"And that's what the Ministry has done."

Buffy was definitely on her good side now, and she knew it. Hook, line and sinker.

"The ministry only has your best interests at heart. That's why I'm here. To teach you the principles of defense," Professor Umbridge sugared.

"Meaning you're only protecting us."

"Exactly."

"Teaching us that there is no actual reason to learn how to do defensive spells in your classroom."

"My point exactly, dear. You are perfectly safe."

So Buffy was on her side, why didn't that surprise them. Many rolled their eyes and let out disfavored scoffs.

"So why does the Ministry have Aurors?" Buffy asked.

And there was the twist that would cause the domino effect. Causing a stuttering moment from everyone. What did Aurors have to do with this?

"Well, they are there to serve as protection against those who wish to do others harm."

"But I thought we were perfectly safe."

Umbridge was getting nervous now. What was going on inside Buffy's mind, she wondered. The students, as intrigued as they were, noticed how Buffy's questions and answers were affecting the professor. And as much as they didn't like her, they were sure glad she was doing it.

"Yes, well you are, within Hogwarts."

"So for three months out of the year we're on our own," her voice still remaining calm.

"No, not necessarily."

"But that's what you said professor. We were perfectly safe while at Hogwarts. So, that means that while we're not, we have to face a world of imperfection, filled with people who wish to do us harm."

"Yes but I also said that we have Aurors. Trained wizards to protect us," Professor Umbridge firmly stated. Her voice growing stern.

"But they can't be everywhere all the time. I mean we all can't be assigned an individual Auror can we?"

"Well, no of course not. They have too much to do," she coldly bit out.

"So my understanding-- from what you've told me, is that leaves us to once again face an imperfect world, that you yourself have said contains things that wish to harm us. Things we can't protect ourselves from because the ministry has decided that there is no need learn how. A ministry who has a whole department filled with wizards, who are trained to catch things that aren't supposed to exist, because we are perfectly safe. For nine months out of the year."

There was no smug look on her face, no challenging look in her year. Buffy didn't let out one bit of emotion, leaving her face blank. While Umbridge on the other hand let her fury be known. Her face had gone absolutely purple. Buffy Summers was definitely a problem child.

"Is there a point you were trying to make Ms. Summers?" she asked, her words coming out like daggers.

"No Professor," Buffy replied in the same sweet and friendly voice she had been using throughout their Q&A. "I just wanted to get the Ministry's intentions clear. Now I know that if I get hurt by a magical means, or _worse_-- the Ministry won't care, because I'm out of Hogwarts protection. I'll be sure to tell my mother that. Thank you for answering my questions." Without another word Buffy quietly and calmly went back to her book, as though nothing had happened. Taking a deep breathe, she internally smiled. That was fun.

The class was speechless. What just happened? But Professor Umbridge knew exactly what happened, Buffy Summers had made her look like an idiot. Something that was just unacceptable, and the infuriating thing was that there was nothing she could do about it. She had agreed to answer the girl's questions without putting a limit to them, and she had been caught of guard. The girl was trouble.

"Now," Professor Umbridge nearly growled gathering attention immediately. "Let me make a few things quite plain. You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead--"

"He wasn't dead," Harry interrupted. Not taking her ignorance lying down. "But yeah, he's returned."

"Mr. Potter! You've already lost house points, do not make matters worse for yourself," she seethed. She was already made a fool of once. She was not going to let it happen again. "As I was saying, you have been informed that a Dark wizard has returned. This is a lie."

"It's NOT a lie! I saw him! I fought him!" His anger was boiling again.

"Detention Mr. Potter!"

One would think that would be enough to keep Harry's mouth shut, but how much fun would that be. Harry was definitely not taking the words laying down, firmly fighting every step of the way. It wasn't until Professor Umbridge ordered him to take a note to Professor McGonagall that no more words came out of his mouth. Everyone watching him as he stormed out of the room, slamming the door in his wake.

Buffy flinched internally at the resonating sound. Her dislike of the Toad in Sheep's Clothing growing, if that were even possible. The sweetness in her voice, and the maliciousness in her eyes told her that the woman was someone to be watched. There was just something not right there. An underlying darkness that screamed within her bones. Making Buffy positive that Professor Umbridge was definitely not what she appeared to be.

* * *

Note: Inspiration keep on coming! Thank you so much for your reviews, I hope this will encourage you to write more :) And to all those writers out there, please update soon. I like updates too :) 


	14. Chapter 14

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

Dinner was nothing but noise. Harry and Buffy's little escapades during D.A.D.A, already traveling through the grapevine. Now instead of getting angry looks, she was getting peculiar ones. Because those disdained and scoffing eyes, were currently setting their sights on someone else.

"Do you really think he did it? Do you think he actually faced– " Susie cupped a hand over the side of her mouth and leaned closer as she whispered. "You-Know-Who?"

"Do you think he did?" Buffy asked, smiling at her behavior.

Everyone was brazenly discussing Harry's shouting match with Professor Umbridge. His ridiculous claims about Voldemort's return and the murder of Cedric, surrounding every inch of the castle. Seemed like his words against the teacher, proved to be more interesting than Buffy's little match.

"Not really sure. I mean, everyone's been saying that it's all lies. That he's just doing it to get attention."

"It's not nice to talk about people behind their backs, you know," Buffy replied knowingly.

"Well, it's not like I can avoid it. Everyone's talking about it," Susie defended herself, then quickly turned back to the inquisitive girl was. "So, do you think he did?"

"Yes," she told her assuredly. "I do."

Susie mulled it over and gave a thoughtful nod. Her own mind, not made up yet. There was so much she had heard against Harry's case, and the Daily Prophet was never wrong . . . so her parents told her. But a part of her believed, that maybe he was telling the truth. After all, what kind of person would lie about the return of You-Know-Who, especially Harry Potter.

Deciding to let it go . . . for now, her mind quickly turned to the other subject that had been bothering her. The one she was uneasy of telling Buffy about.

"Everybody's talking about you too," Susie told her quietly.

Buffy paused briefly. It wasn't a surprise, really. It was the fact that Susie had caught wind of it, something she had been trying to avoid. "Oh," Buffy replied, forcing her tone to remain even. "What are they saying?"

"Everyone's been wondering why you've come back," she confessed softly. "And they've also been saying some really awful things about you, and that you used to be really mean to people . . . they've also mentioned something 'bout the Chamber of Secrets."

Buffy should've been shocked, but in reality she was surprised that this was the first time someone had brought that up. She was expecting a bombard of questions and accusations when she had arrived. Especially in the common room, but no one mentioned a single thing about it. Like it had never happened. Dumbledore had explained to her, that nobody knew what Buffy had really been through. Even Harry had been given a vague description. The Headmaster had also guaranteed that everyone who had been aware, was told to remain quiet on the matter. Assuring her, that the students had only been told the basics. To ease their curiosity, and that he had even added his own small twist on it, just to make it plausible. Something Buffy was grateful for, but had also left her wondering if maybe, the students hadn't believed a word of it. What, with their warm reception and all.

"Buffy?"

The small worried voice penetrated through her thoughts, shaking Buffy out of her reflecting. "Huh?"

"Are you okay? You kind of drifted off," Susie asked in concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just," she sighed. "I'm just tired. Think I'm gonna head off to bed."

"But you haven't finished your dinner," she told her, looking at her nearly full plate.

"Not hungry." Grabbing her bag, she rose from her seat. "I'll see you later," she replied, giving a strained smile.

As she watched her go, Susie was beginning to think that bringing up the whole subject, might've not been such a good idea.

Buffy kept her head down in thought, all the way to the common room. It wasn't that she was upset, well not really anyway. But the mention of the Chamber brought up all the memories she had tried to forget. The ones she still had nightmares about. The ones that had left their serious mark.

Stepping through the portrait hole, she paused briefly when she saw Harry, Ron and Hermione sitting around the fireplace. All of their eyes in her direction, two of them still as menacing as ever. Knowing what everyone had been saying during dinner, Buffy tried to read Harry's expression. His head hung low, as though it were too heavy to keep up, and his hands were clasped together strongly, like a giant fist. Definitely not a good sign. Realizing that she had been staring at him for quite some time, and that Ron and Hermione were giving her 'go away' looks, she quickly averted her eyes and went to the stairs. Catching their voices as she went up the steps.

"What was that about?" She heard Ron ask.

Halfway up, she stopped. Every nerve in her, waiting to hear Harry's response.

"Nothing," he replied lowly.

There was a sudden lump in her throat, which she found difficult to swallow. And her back stiffened at the sudden feeling of ice-cold water running down her spine. Nothing, guess that's all they really were now. Knowing that she had no one to blame but herself, she continued up the stairs. Each step feeling heavier. Reaching her room, she sat down on her bed and pulled the drapes around her. Taking out the radio from beneath her pillow, she placed on her headphones and pressed play. Tuning out the world, tunning out Harry, as she lost her herself in the abundant amount of homework she had waiting for her. Refusing to face the unpleasant thoughts roaming around in her head, and indulged herself in the Sunnydale disease.

* * *

The next morning, Buffy avoided breakfast again. Not wanting to embrace maturity, and face Susie, with all the questions she would undoubtedly have. The longer she could avoid talking about the Chamber, the better. Deciding to wait out the early morning hours in the library, she occupied herself with doing some research for her essays. May not be fun, but it did serve its purpose. She was midway into Giant Wars, when the bell rang, forcing her work to be continued. Gathering all of her books and supplies, she heaved the bag over her shoulder and walked out of her soon-becoming haven, wondering what interesting little scenes would play out today. But taking into consideration her first two classes the clear answer would be, none.

Charms and Transfigurations, could be summed up into three words: OWL's, reviewing, and homework. The only break was trying a Vanishing Spell in Professor McGonagall's class. By the end of it only Hermione's snail had unsurprisingly gone poof. Gaining ten points for Gryffindor, and having earned Hermione no homework for the day. Lucky.

After lunch, came Care of Magical Creatures. Another subject Buffy had been dreading. It had taken Buffy more than two weeks, just to be near Buckbeak without him squawking like a bird on the attack. Making her wonder if magical creatures might sense her slayerness, and consider her a predator. It wasn't like she was going to kill him, but girls like her weren't exactly called Slayers for no reason. It may have been just a one time incident, but it was cause for alarm. The only other creature she had been around was Kreature, and he seemed to like her just fine. But house elves were in a different category, giving her ideas the teeter-toter. Whatever the case, as she made her way down the path to the forest, she made a mental note to nonchalantly stay away from any magical beasties that would be shown today, if possible. Because getting attacked may not be the best thing in the 'stop talking about me' department.

Arriving near Hagrid's hut, she came to stand before a long trestle table, and nervously waited for the class to start. A minute later she heard loud bursts of laughter breaking through the air, startling most of the students. Looking behind her, Buffy watched as Draco, Pansy and their Sheep, strutted their way over. And by the way they kept looking at Harry, it was obvious what they believed to be so funny. They stood a few feet away from her, and Buffy unabashedly kept staring, waiting for Draco to look her way. But it was Pansy who turned in her direction, her pug face a mixture of loathing and snobbishness. Buffy watched as the girl slipped her arm through Draco's smugly, and Buffy couldn't help but notice Draco begin to shift uncomfortably. Pansy seemingly unaware. Rolling her eyes at the brainless girl, Buffy turned back to the class. Why she had ever considered Pansy an acquaintance was beyond her.

"Everyone here?" Professor Grubbly-Plank asked, looking over the students. "Good. Let's crack on then. Who can tell me what these things are?"

Looking down into a mess of twigs, everyone tried to find what she was talking about– except for Hermione whose hand was already in the air. A second later the twigs sprung to life and revealed themselves to be some sort of pixies, or wood shaped pixies in Buffy's opinion.

A twin set of 'Oooooh!''s floated out of Parvati and Lavender, after Pansy's shriek of surprise.

"Kindly keep your voices down, girls!" the Professor scorned, as she scattered what looked like brown rice among the pixie things. "Anyone know the name of these creatures? Miss Granger?"

"Bowtruckels. They're tree guardians, they usually live in wand-trees," she answered.

"Five points for Gryffindor. Anybody know what they eat?"

"Woodlice," Hermione answered again. "But fairy eggs if they can get them."

That's when Buffy noticed that the 'brown rice' was moving, and she shuddered. Okay, no more Chinese food for her.

"Good girl, another five points. So, whenever you need leaves or wood from a tree a Bowtruckle lodges, it is wise to offer woodlice or fairy eggs to distract or placate it. They may not look dangerous, but if angered they will try to gouge at human eyes with their fingers, which, as you can see are very sharp. So, if you'd like to gather closer, take a few woodlice, and a Bowtruckle, you can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you, with all the body parts labeled, by the end of the lesson."

Great, 'if angered they will try to gouge at human eyes,' that wasn't scary. Grabbing a small amount of squirming woodlice, she shuddered, and reached for a Bowtruckle. The small little thing closest to her, flew near. Its head tilted to the side in curiosity. It fluttered closer, and pointed out its little face as if it were studying her. Buffy waited patiently for it to _stop_, hoping it would be before anybody caught on. The Bowtruckle flew shortly back, and not wanting to antagonize it, Buffy held out her hand of woodlice as a peace offering. Tentatively it went toward her outstretched hand, and sniffed it. Realizing that it was food, it hungrily dove and began to binge, while Buffy breathed a sigh of relief.

Finding an empty spot yards away, with the Bowtruckle in her hand, she took a seat. Unaware that Hermione had been watching her the entire time. As she made herself comfortable, she looked up momentarily and noticed Draco and Harry in what must be, another lovers spat. The short conversation gaining the same results, a simmering Harry and a smirking Draco. Strutting away, Malfoy turned in Buffy's direction. Her breath hitching as his silver eyes connected with her's for a second, before he looked away. She was too far away to read them, but she knew that he wasn't exactly overjoyed with her yet.

Giving the all familiar sigh, Buffy went into sketching the creature who was now fluttering around her. Trying to keep her concentration on the assignment, and not on Draco. Scattering the remaining woodlice on the ground, Buffy acutely observed the Bowtruckle as it flew down to get its food. Her Slayer sharpened eyes, noticing every detail on its little body. Copying down the figure onto the parchment, and using her textbook to label the body parts, it wasn't long before she finished. Not artist material, but she wasn't exactly going for a Monet. Getting up from her seat, she made her way over to Professor Grubbly-Plank to hand it in.

"Done already? Well done, Miss Summers," she congratulated. "Why don't you just wait out the rest of the period." All fifteen minutes of it.

Buffy gave a quick smile before she turned on her heel, and made her way to her previous spot. Passing by Harry, Ron and Hermione, who were busy trying to draw their uncooperative creature. A minute later, she heard a sudden loud bursted 'Ouch!' Turning quickly Buffy watched as the trio's Bowtruckle flew into the forest, leaving an injured Harry to cradle his hand attentively. And the Slytherins to roar with laughter at the scene.

A sharp stinging ran through her, as Buffy watched Hermione gently care for Harry's wound. With her handkerchief, now wrapped around his hand. Pretending like she hadn't noticed a thing, Buffy snapped her attention back on her path. Taking a seat beneath the shade of a tree, wondering why she had a sudden tightening in her tummy.

The bell signaling the end of class, rang throughout the grounds. Trudging up the well-worn path, Buffy trailed behind the rest of the students to Herbology. Giving Ginny Weasley a curious glance, as the girl passed her with an odd and innocent expression on her face. And turning back to look at her a few times, before she disappeared out of sight. At least she wasn't glaring.

Herbology came and went in a flash of OWL's and homework. And after getting berated by Angelina, and eating a ten minute dinner, Harry found himself experiencing a hell-on-earth detention.

"Now, you are going to be writing lines for me Mr. Potter," she had instructed, then handed him a rather sharp black quill. "I want you to _write. I must not tell lies_."

"How many times?"

"For as long as it takes for the message to sink in."

Harry looked around for ink, but there was none to be found. "You haven't given me any ink."

"Oh, you won't need ink," she replied, her eyes laughing suspiciously.

Shiny red ink soon colored the parchment, and a searing pain stretched across his skin. _I must not tell lies_, carved the back of his hand, as well as the paper. Then, the wound quickly healed over leaving a nasty red mark. Looking up and seeing the malevolent smile on Umbridge's face, Harry knew that she was getting some sort of twisted delight in all this, but he kept his mouth shut. There was no use in arguing, if this is what he would have to face for every additional detention she would undoubtedly give him.

As the evening carried on, Harry's blood continued to taint the parchment in five precise words, _I must not tell lies_. His tortured hand carved into each time he wrote the words, before healing over and doing it again. Harry was almost positive that he was beginning to lose feeling in his hand, which was not good considering he was a Quidditch player.

After what seemed like hours, Umbridge had finally released him. But not before checking his hand

"I don't seem to have made an impression yet," she smiled, looking over his hand with her stubby fingers. "Well, we'll just have to try tomorrow evening, won't we? You may go."

Cursing her toad face and whole existence, Harry left the office. Racing down the corridors to his dormitory. Groaning at all the homework that he still hadn't touched. Quietly bursting through the door, he hurried to his bed. His eyes widening in surprise when he found sheets of paper laying atop the mattress. Picking them up, he noticed that they were handwritten notes on the properties of moonstone, Giant Wars, and Vanishing Spells. Lowering himself slowly on his bed, Harry couldn't help but recognize the handwriting. Its small loopy words, were ones he hadn't seen in a very long time.

* * *

Notes: Stupid inspiration fairy[ Flew right over my house, but I tried. So, I hope it isn't too bad. Please be kind :)


	15. Chapter 15

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

Every night after his detention Harry would find pages of notes littering his bed. And every day the next day he tried to get a hold of Buffy . . . when he could find her, or when he wasn't guarded by Hermione and Ron, or when he wasn't busy with homework, or when he had a moments peace. So it was pretty fair to say that he has intentions hadn't exactly been followed through.

Completely wrapped up with everything going on around him, Harry barely had time to realize that the end of the week had arrived. With great relief. His detention with Umbridge had finally finished. He was finally free from the wretched toad. Though the back of his hand was now firmly imprinted with the etched words that wouldn't heal over. Only Ron knew about Umbridge's special detention, after they had caught each other going into the common room in the late hours. Ron revealing, he had been practicing on his own to try out for Keeper, and Harry revealing his torturous secret. Making Ron promise not to tell anyone. But again, all that, was all over.

Now, here he was up early the next morning, a Saturday. The rest of his house mates still lay sleeping. Most of them exhausted from last nights celebration of Ron making it as Keeper on the Quidditch Team. Putting the final touches on his letter to Sirius, as he sat in his favorite squishy chair in the Common Room.

Today should've been a sleep-in-day. For all those who weren't Buffy, anyway. As soon as sunlight seeped into the room, and forcing herself to remain awake, she got up, got dressed and headed out. Hoping to sneak out of the Tower unnoticed.

Signed, sealed, and ready to be delivered, Harry was just making it toward the portrait hole when he heard footsteps. Turning around he immediately froze when he saw Buffy coming into the room. His eyes growing wide, and his every thought flooding away.

Buffy stopped halfway in when she saw him. She tried not to let his eyes intimidate her, or the fact that they were in close proximity of each other. Filling up her every nerve ending in butterflies. But it was a daunting task to say the least.

Shifting her eyes nervously around for a second, she shyly began to walk toward him, her hands wringing before her. He was so close, and she could practically see all the emotions running through his eyes. Her stomach nothing but knots and flutters.

Harry saw her walking toward him, and slowly he began to move, to meet her halfway there. His never eyes wavering from her face. Slowly taking in every mature detail. Her lips had somehow grown rosier, he noticed, and her eyes looked oddly different. They were still the same hazel green he knew of, but they held something he had never seen in her. Something he couldn't quite place. She hadn't really grown that much taller either, but it fit her in some way. Making her look sweet and innocent. And he realized that there were a lot of things different about her now.

"Hi," he breathed out. Still, mildly tranced, as they reached each other.

"Hi," she smiled nervously.

As far as first words go, that wasn't too shabby. Not note worthy, but a good start. Then there was the awkwardness. Not knowing what to say, what to do. Avoiding eye contact. Waiting for the other to brave it and continue. Something they should've let alone.

"H-how you've been?" Buffy stuttered.

It was going so well, it really was, and with those three little words it all went to the pooper.

"How have I been? How 've I--" A sudden anger rose up within Harry. His face twisting in rage. "Why are you suddenly wondering about that now?! Why does it suddenly matter to you?! If you hadn't been so selfish, you would've known how I've been!" he snapped. "Don't start pretending that you care Buffy! It's obvious that it doesn't mean a thing to you! That anything means a thing to you!"

"Harry I'm-" she tried to apologize.

"Save it!" he stopped her. "I don't want your apologies." He turned away from her harshly and walked out. His letter to Sirius clutched angrily in his hand.

Buffy watched him with near glossy eyes. The punch in her stomach not subsiding. She never realized how much she had hurt him. She didn't mean to, there was just so much going on that she didn't know what she was doing. That didn't mean she had stopped thinking about him, missing him. Biting her lower lip to keep her calm, Buffy climbed out of the portrait hole. Her arms wrapped securely around her all the way to the library.

Taking a seat at the back of the room, near the shadows, she waited quietly. Betraying all the confusion, and hurt running through her. Fifteen minutes later she felt the presence of someone coming near, and without looking up she spoke. "Hey, Neville."

"Hey, Buffy," he greeted, setting down his books on the table and taking a seat. "'S everything all right?" he asked, noticing her glum behavior.

"Everything's fine." She looked up, giving him a nod and a smile.

"Are you sure? You look a bit down."

Sighing sadly, she shifted in her seat and gave up the sunny deposition. As convincing as that was. "It's just one of those days you know, but I'm fine."

Neville let it go. Her evasiveness solid proof that she didn't want to talk about it.

"So? Potions?" Buffy asked reaching for her books.

"Yeah," he blushingly smiled, reaching for his own supplies.

They were both readily into the chapter when Neville spoke up again. "I-I just wanted to thank you again, for you know, doing this. You've already helped me s-so much in class and--"

"Don't worry about it. I mean, it's the least I could do. After the way I used to treat you and everything," she embarrassingly admitted. "I kinda owe you."

Neville didn't respond to that, but she did notice his shoulders stiffen a little before relaxing again. His eyes quickly lowering to the book on the table. Buffy should've known that getting people to forgive and forget, wasn't going to be so easy. But did she even wanna try? The reason she was helping Neville was because he needed the help. There was no ulterior motive. Buffy wasn't secretly hoping that he would spread the word, and suddenly become Ms. Popularity. But she did feel the need to right the wrongs. That's all she could hope for. So, taking Neville's example she looked down to her book, and continued her tutoring promise for the rest of that morning.

Harry had grumbled all the way to the Owlery. Murmuring about Buffy Summers beneath his breath. Little Buffy Summers, who only cared about one person. Herself. Finally, reaching the tower, he tied the letter to Hedwig's leg and sent her off. Watching her momentarily, before turning around and bumping right into Cho Chang. The same excitement he used to feel whenever she was near, didn't make its presence this time. He was still seething over his encounter with Buffy, which didn't leave much room for anything else. So, after using the usual pleasantries, Harry politely left. Missing the confused look on Cho's face.

"Morning," Harry grumbled, joining Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. His green eyes taking a sweeping look over the rest of the occupants. A twinge of disappointment when he found no familiar blonde head.

"What're you so grumpy about?" Ron asked.

"Bad night." And that was all he needed to say.

Ron nodded, and hesitated a moment before opening his mouth again.

"Listen Harry . . . I was wondering if maybe . . . you'd fancy going out a bit earlier with me– just to give me some practice before training? So, I can you know, get my eye in a bit."

The idea of flying on his broom, something he hadn't been able to do– in what he felt was a very long time, brought Harry's spirits up. "Yeah, okay. That sounds great."

"Look, I don't think you should. You're both really behind on your homework as it is," Hermione advised sternly.

"No, we're not. We only got a few papers do, but those aren't do until Monday," Ron told her.

"What do you mean you're not behind?" she asked suspiciously.

"We've been using Harry's notes," he answered.

"Notes? What notes?" Her eyes snapping to him.

Why couldn't he have kept his mouth shut? Harry was now regretting sharing the notes with his big mouthed friend. He knew Ron wouldn't ask questions, living with Fred and George did that to a person. But Hermione was a different story. And he was sure that she wouldn't do well with knowing, that the notes had come from Buffy. But why should he care? Buffy obviously didn't. His anger over the blonde, still not dissipating since the encounter. Even if he did feel a twinge of remorse, when he suddenly realized that she had helped him when she didn't have to.

"Just some notes that I have," he shrugged.

"I've never seen you take notes in class. Where did you get them? Did--"

Harry was saved by the fluttering of owls making their morning deliveries, and he exhaled in relief. The usual Daily rubbish was scanned, but one thing did cause alarm. The Daily Prophet had reported, that Sirius had been spotted in London. Making Harry worry that Sirius might get caught, and taken away from him. Back to Azkaban, where who knows what would be done to him this time around. Harry hoped that his godfather had seen this, and would finally take Dumbledore's advice seriously and not leave the house. No matter what.

The day had rolled on as Buffy and Neville spent their hours studying in the library. Then packing it in for lunchtime, seeing as they had missed breakfast and their tummy's began to rumble.

"Again next week?" Neville asked.

"You got it," Buffy assured him.

Separating, they made it back to the Gryffindor tower, and after putting her things away in her room, Buffy headed into the Hall alone. Making her way to her usual spot toward the end of the Gryffindor table. Swallowing harshly when she noticed Harry, purposely not-looking in her direction.

"Hey," she greeted, taking a seat.

"Hi," Susie smiled brightly next to her.

After Buffy's reaction on Tuesday, Susie made a point to never bring up the Chamber of Secrets, or any part of Buffy's past, again.

"How was your first week?" Buffy asked, reaching for a sandwich.

"It was good. A little difficult though," she frowned slightly.

"Don't worry it gets better," she grinned encouragingly.

"Hope so. How 'bout yours?"

She sighed tiredly, and her friendly smile soon turned upside down. "Complicated."

Lunch flew by, in the usual mundane of things. Finishing off with Susie leaving with her friends to enjoy the afternoon and Buffy leaving to find herself in the Quidditch pitch. Book in hand, and taking a seat higher up on the stands. Soon hiding herself behind the tome.

Her back quickly stiffened when she heard Pansy's shrilling voice coming closer. Taking peak from behind the pages, Buffy saw her old Slytherin chums taking seats, just a few rows below her. That's. Just. Perfect.

A short time later, the Gryffindor Quidditch team came flying out for their practice. The cat calls and jeering, immediately starting.

"What's that Weasley's riding? Why would anyone put a flying charm on a moldy old log like that?" Draco sneered loudly.

Buffy groaned internally and rolled her eyes, she hadn't been that pathetic had she? She gave better shots against vampires, and they had very little to work with.

"Hey, Johnson what's with that hairstyle anyway? Why would anyone want to look like they've got worms coming out of their head?" Pansy shrieked.

"Oh, please," Buffy mumbled exasperated-- and apparently loud enough, because the group soon turned in her direction.

"Got something you wanna say Summers?" Pansy sneered at the blonde she had been desperately waiting to rip into.

"And go up against your 'witty' mind? Wouldn't wanna do that. I might actually look like a genius," Buffy sarcastically drawled.

There were few sniggers behind her and Pansy saw absolutely red. Especially when she knew that one of those sniggers belonged to Draco.

"Well, at least I don't look like a . . . like a . . . " Damn it, why couldn't she think of anything?

"Careful Pansy, all that thinking was never really good for you. Always made you look kinda . . . poochy."

There was more muffled laughter now, and Pansy hated the girl more than ever.

"Yeah, well at least my father didn't leave me and my mum, because he was too ashamed to even look at me."

It was a low blow, and everybody knew it. None of the Slytherins laughed or cheered. They might not like her now, but Buffy used to be one of them. She did more in defending and upholding the Slytherin name, than Pansy could ever live up to. She had become a legend in those dungeons, and it was hard to completely severe the ties.

Draco couldn't believe what he had just heard, and he was very close to doing something very dangerous to Pansy. Her only saving grace was the amount of people surrounding them.

Her eyes only a gave a flicker of vulnerable hurt, as she looked onto the girl's grinning face. But just as quickly it vanished. Buffy had never liked Pansy the lapdog. The airheaded girl had followed her around during their first two years together. Like a very annoying shadow. Pansy was a two-faced liar, and a fake. And the only reason Buffy tolerated her was because her father wanted a connection to the Parkinson name.

"You know I almost feel sorry for you," Pansy continued. "If it wasn't for the fact that I agree with him. I mean who would want a loser like you for a daughter."

Setting her jaw, Buffy calmly picked up her things and rose from her seat. She was not going to lose this one. "And I almost feel sorry for you. Must be hard, always coming in second best," she smiled sweetly. Then throwing a quick glance at Draco, one that Pansy immediately caught.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" she snarled.

Buffy smirked condescendingly, and without a word walked away.

"Draco, what does she mean by that?" Pansy demanded, her voice wavering in uncertainty.

"How should I know?" he snapped.

But by the way Draco kept his eyes on Buffy as she exited the Pitch, Pansy knew for certain that the Slytherin Prince knew exactly what Buffy was talking about. And a large stone of fear settled into her stomach.

* * *

"All right you two. It's been a week and I'm sick of playing the errand boy," Remus scolded. "Now, both of you are going to sit down and talk this out like rational adults."

"But I--"

"But he--"

"Sit!"

At once, Sirius and Joyce plunked down into their chairs. Their backs turned away from each other. Arms crossed and faces pouting.

"Now, things were said and feelings were hurt. But I think that its time to bury the hatchet. You both know you're behaving like children." Their mouths opened and Remus raised a finger. "Still talking." And back to pouting they went. "As I was saying. It's time to put all this foolish behavior to rest. We all know that you can't keep this up forever. Not you two anyway. So let's get to it, shall we."

They stayed stoned silent and didn't budge an inch.

"Someone's gotta make the first move here," Remus sighed.

Seconds passed and it was Joyce who finally spoke the first words. "Well if Sirius hadn't been acting like such a child, maybe none of this would've happened." No one said she had to be nice about it though.

"So this is all my fault?" Sirius scoffed.

"If the wand fits, than shove it up--"

"Oh well that's very mature."

"Look who's talking about being mature!"

"A lot more mature than going on about shoving a wand up--"

"You really are full of yourself you know that?"

"Me! What about you? Coming out all righteous and noble. Just because you were a Ravenclaw, doesn't mean you're smarter than me, you know."

"You're right it doesn't. People just need to hear you talk and that would be proof enough!"

They were both standing by now. Fingers pointing, and faces yelling. Reveling in their adult maturity, about the situation.

Remus took an oblivious empty seat in between the two of them. Burying his head in his hands. Wondering what in Merlin's name, was he thinking? Maybe he should just lock them in a room and have them snog it out.

* * *

Note: So many wonderful reviews! More please!


	16. Chapter 16

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM

DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED

FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR

Bad. Bad. Bad. Did she mention that this was bad? Reading the Daily Prophet over and over again, Buffy knew that this was what? BAD!

"So, what does it mean?" Susie asked her unsurely.

"It means, that the old toad has been given more power than she deserves," Buffy bit out. Then looked to the girl in a mix of sorry and anger. "And that everything's going to change."

"But--but I don't want things to change. Why do they have to change?"

"Because the Minister's an idiot," she huffed, folding up the newspaper and giving it back to the second year she had borrowed it from.

Professor Dolores Umbridge First Ever High– well, we'll leave it as just plain high – was put in charge of evaluating the Hogwarts staff (along with her playing insider spy for the Ministry no doubt.) Meaning that for an undetermined amount of time, she would horde in on every teacher and interrupt their lectures, with her irritating 'hem, hem''s. Reporting every detail back to Fudge, and giving the sneaky suspicion that it wasn't only the lessons that Umbridge would be accounting back.

Another week, another detention. Harry really should learn to keep his mouth shut, especially in Umbridge's class. You would think the painful scar on the back of his hand would be reminder enough. But it was becoming clear that he just wasn't that clever. Now, here he was after another night of torturous detention, sitting around the Common Room with Ron and Hermione. His hand soaking in a bowl of yellow liquid that Hermione had given him to soothe the stinging.

"He really is out there isn't he?" Hermione asked. The rolling of thunder nearly overpowering her words. Sirius had appeared to them in the fireplace just minutes ago. Putting Hermione in a firm state about learning defense against Voldemort. Seeing as the Ministry felt the need to hand them over on a silver platter. "We've got to be able to defend ourselves. And if Umbridge refuses to teach us how, we need someone who will."

"If you're talking about Lupin . . . " Harry began.

"No, no I'm not talking about Lupin. He's too busy with the Order, and anyway, the most we could see him is during Hogsmeade weekend, and that's not nearly often enough."

"Who then?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione said. "I'm talking about you Harry."

"About me what?" he asked, not liking where this was going.

She gave a heavy sigh and met him square in the eye. "I'm talking about you teaching us Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Me?"

"Yeah," Ron imputed, stepping into the conversation. "I mean, why not you?"

Harry had a sudden deja vu moment. It was like the Goblet of Fire all over again. He's name being picked out of the flames, when he never put it in there in the first place.

"Lets face it, Harry. You're the best in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Think of all that you've done," Hermione told him.

"No, but I--"

"You saved the Sorcerer's Stone," she said.

"You killed the Basilisk and destroyed Riddle," Ron told him. "And you saved Sirius, and fought a hundred Dementors at once."

"And last year you fought off against You-Know-Who," Hermione reminded him.

"Listen to me," Harry cut them off before they could say anything else. Shooting up from his seat in a rush of emotion. "It sounds great when you say it like that, but most of it was pure luck. I didn't know what I was doing half the time, I didn't plan any of it, and I nearly always had help." His anger was rising again. He didn't even know why he was becoming so angry. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm the rage that seemed to pop into him unexpectedly. "You think its just memorizing a bunch of spells and throwing them at him, like you're in class or something. That it's as simple as following your gut or brains, but it's not like that. It's . . . when you're a second away from being murdered, or tortured, or watching your friends die . . . you don't know what that's like."

The reminder of what had occurred last year, of what happened to Cedric, brought Harry's anger down to guilt and sorrow. Slowly, he lowered himself back into the seat, sinking into the cushions.

"You're right, we don't," Hermione told him, meeting him at eye level. "That's why we need you. You're the only one who knows what it's like to face him . . . to face . . . V-Voldemort . . . and to survive we need to learn what it's like as well."

She half-expected him to agree on the spot, but when he looked away from her and stared down at his hands, she knew that he needed more time.

"Will you at least think about it . . . please?" she pleaded with him.

Hermione waited, and finally, he gave her a slow nod. At least that was something. After uncomfortably bidding her goodnights she went off to bed. With Ron following not too far behind, leaving Harry alone to his thoughts.

The thunder rolled outside again, complementing the ideas roaming around in his head. Not believing that he was actually entertaining the idea of teaching students, who believed him to be a nutcase, the tools to defend themselves against someone they still didn't believe had returned. It was definitely going to be a restless night. Forcefully pushing himself up from the very comfy chair, Harry trudged up the stairs. No longer being able to resist the warm and cozy bed that called to him . . . and completely missing the person who had snuck into the tower ten minutes later.

They hadn't spoken a word to each other since their friendly little confrontation in the common room, but that didn't stop them from sharing sneaky glances every once and a while. Skittish, and at times, more revealing than Harry would've liked. Buffy tried to extend the olive branch again, but unfortunately every one of her notes was returned a second after she had sent them, and most likely untouched. She was close to giving up, but her own stubbornness prevented her from it. Sooner or later he'd give in . . . well, at least she hoped he did.

The sickening smell of incense burned her nose, and made her eyes water. Nothing like a nauseating Wednesday morning to start off your day. Didn't this woman ever open a window? Slouching in her usual darkened corner, Buffy was near invisible to everyone else. The rest of the class supposedly deep into their dream interpretation, while she sat alone in her little dream day world.

Professor Trelawney was making her way through the tables. Her many bangles and beads rattling and clinging with every move she made. Visiting each student to offer her 'sound' advice on dreams and their importance. Her soft and misty voice pretty much falling on deaf ears. She was passing by another pair of bored students when she felt a pulling to a corner. Her large spectacled eyes searching for the source. Walking closer she finally made out a blonde girl she couldn't remember the name of, but everything radiating from her screamed in her direction.

"Such, such darkness," Trelawney dazedly spoke in a trance.

The moment the words left her lips Buffy immediately focused her attention. This couldn't be good. Shifting in her seat she realized the whole class had suddenly gone quiet, frazzling her nerves even more.

"The shadows surround you my dear. The stench of loss breezes across your soul. The nightmared darkness like a cloud of smoke swirling your being. Phantoms of fog that cannot be changed. The creature of the heart that binds it to you. The one that lived within the night."

The rest of the world faded away as Buffy hung strongly to the words being spoken to her. The Professor revealing things she would rather forget. Her eyes were beginning to burn again, this time having nothing to do with the incense, as her breathing was growing shallow.

"Such a horrible and wretched place that is, fire and brimstone of agony, but what is done cannot be undone. The sacrifice needed to be made. He needed to be pulled through the gates, to the shallow tortured depths. Only you could've wielded it."

Why was she saying these things to her? What made her think she wanted to hear any of it? Buffy already knew it was her fault for what happened to him. Where he was. She was the one who killed him. She knew it! So why didn't the Professor stop.

"You had to do it," Trelawney spoke, her voice dropping down to a whisper only Buffy could hear. "There was no other way. His soul may burn but he does not blame you. His screams are not of anger as they mark him. He has forgiven you. The betrayal, you--"

She couldn't take it anymore. Her eyes nearly spilled over and each of Trelawney's words caused a stabbing pain in her chest. Grabbing her bag roughly Buffy rose from her seat, nearly knocking the table over, and without a word or look to anyone else, she ran out of the room. The students dumbfounded over what had just occurred.

Draco watched her go, and forced himself not to follow. All the while, wondering why the senseless words from Trelawney had affected her so deeply. He had never seen Buffy so upset, and especially not, on the verge of tears. It was a troubling feeling that he didn't like. Waiting until he caught the final glimpse of her, Draco finally turned away, knowing that Buffy was going to be on his mind for the rest of the day. And not knowing that several pouffes down, a boy with emerald green eyes was feeling the same way.

People were nothing but blurry faces as she passed them. Bumping into a few bodies along the way, but not exactly in the mood for caring. Storming into the Gryffindor Tower Buffy didn't take the time to notice if people were in there or not as she ran up the stairway. Slamming the door behind her once she reached her room, and pulling the drapes around her as she sank into her bed.

Resting her back against the board, Buffy pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms tightly around them. Dropping her head down heavily, she tried desperately to not let the tears fall. Tried to swallow the large lump in her throat, and stop the aching in her chest. But all of her intentions had failed, as the drops began to trickle down, and the lump and aching only grew. Buffy hugged her knees closer as she fell into quiet and heavy sobs for the man she had loved and murdered, for being in a place where she felt unwanted, for leaving her friends and family, she cried for everything she had been holding in, and doing it all with no comforting hand to hold. With no one to tell her it was going to be all right as they stroked her hair soothingly. Without a single person to help her through her sorrow. She was in this alone, in an isolated world where everyone she knew wanted her gone.

For the rest of the day Buffy kept herself locked up in her room. She didn't have the heart and strength to pretend her way through the rest of the day. Her stomach didn't even growl when she skipped lunch and dinner. She tried distracting herself with reading, doing homework, but even listening to her stereo didn't work. Her mind just didn't want to accept any other thoughts but the bad ones. In a daze she watched as the sun slowly set behind the land. Her muscles twitching as night descended over the grounds once more. Keeping herself behind the drapes, she waited for the girls to enter the dormitory.

" . . . no one has seen her since," Lavender's voice drifted in. Buffy could hear two sets of footsteps, and since it was Lavender's voice she had heard than the other person must be . . .

"I wonder what caused her to run out like that," Parvati wondered.

"Didn't you hear what Professor Trelawney said. All that stuff about darkness and shadows. That's probably why she came back. She's probably running away from something, and from the sound of it, something bad. And you know the Professor's never wrong," Lavender told her.

"You don't actually think she might be . . . dangerous," she gulped.

"Who knows? I mean, you know how she was like before."

"Yeah, and then all that stuff with the Chamber of Secrets."

"Exactly . . . but Dumbledore must know what's going on if he allowed her to come back. So, I guess it can't be that bad."

"Yeah, you're probably right. But still . . . "

"I know."

The conversation switched over to boys and homework, as the two readied themselves for bed. Unaware, or if they were, uncaring, that Buffy had listened to the entire conversation. The door opened again and knowing that it was Hermione, Buffy went back to waiting. Lavender and Parvati's conversation going through her mind. There should've been some sort of a reaction to their words, but she didn't feel a thing. Must be the immunity kicking in, finally. They've talked about her while she was in the room before, only difference was the topic of the day. Today's obviously being the scene in Divinations class, but she had the sneaky suspicion that they weren't the only ones talking about it. Stupid Trelawney, maybe the next time she sees with her inner eye, she'll see Buffy's foot going up there to meet it.

Forty minutes later the room had gone completely quiet. Sharpening her senses, Buffy listened for any signs of movement. Nothing. Quietly peering through the curtain she saw the bed drapes wrapped around the rest of her bunkmates. Finally! Lowering her feet to the ground, with her shoes in hand, she soundlessly made her way out of the room in full on stealth mode. Reaching the common room, she put her shoes on and headed out.

For the past three weeks Buffy had been secretly looking for a passageway out of this place. Staying 'late' in the library, waking up early, pretty much doing the searching whenever the halls would be empty. There were of course the obvious routes, the long ones, but those wouldn't work. She needed a quick get away if she planned to do her nightly demon cleaning as much as she liked. That, and to do it without Filch, Umbridge, the Professors, or the Prefects, catching her. Oh yeah, piece of cake. Why didn't people have a map of this kind of stuff? Walking down the seventh floor corridor, Buffy was going over the trails again. Changing her direction each time she thought of a new passage. By the third time she walked across the spot she had been pacing, the large wall behind her began to rumble quietly. Turning around Buffy found a door she hadn't seen before. What the . . . When did that happen? Inching closer, she slowly wrapped her hand around the handle and pried the door open. Her eyes widening when she found herself looking outside. A surprised smile came upon her face when she realized this was the answer she was looking for. Why hadn't she discovered this before? Deciding to test out the realism of this little opportunity, Buffy placed a foot out, and sure enough it landed on solid ground. Wicked! Getting ready to completely walk out, she froze when she heard footsteps. Faraway, but getting closer. Closing the door quietly she crept back to the portrait. Keeping her eye out for whom she was sure, must be Filch.

"Oh, it's you again," the Fat Lady grumbled. "You know. You must really stop these late night antics of yours. It's not very polite to interrupt my sleep."

"Yeah, I know, I'm sorry," Buffy whispered.

"Humph. Something tells me you're not sorry it all, and that you'll continue to do so for nights to come."

"You're right, a-about the second part I mean."

"Yes, well, I should just leave you out here for the night. To teach you a lesson."

Buffy's eyes widened with fear. She wouldn't, would she? Looking around her she kept waiting for Filch to catch her, since the Stupid Lady was being, well, stupid.

See? She would've never had this problem going into in the Slytherin common room. Stone walls can't scorn you when they don't have lips. Ugh, stupid Gryffindors.

"Maybe I should report you to Professor Dumbledore. He'll know what to do with you."

Click. "Yes," she said excitedly, then corrected herself to sound repentantly. "Yes, talk to Dumbledore he'll know what to do with me. Tell him everything and maybe he can figure something out."

"I will."

"You should."

"Don't think I won't."

"Never said you won't."

"Because I will."

"I know that."

Eyeing her suspiciously, the Fat Lady finally relented. "Password?"

"Commodo."

The portrait swung open, much to the Lady's displeasure, wanting to keep the girl out for waking her up.

"I am going to," the Fat Lady continued as she hung to the side.

"I know you will."

"Just you see."

"I'll be waiting."

Stepping into the common room Buffy smiled widely, guess it wasn't only the teachers she could have some fun with. Quietly reaching her room, Buffy moved aside her bed curtains ready to snuggle in when she found a sheet of paper on her bed. Picking it up she noticed it was the assignments from all the classes she had missed. All of it written in a handwriting she didn't recognize. Weird.

* * *

Note: Thank you so much for the reviews. I hope they'll keep coming.


	17. Chapter 17

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

Vermin. Pests. A disease upon this planet that should be disposed of. Raking his eyes over the crowded room, he forced his face to remain neutral, friendly even. Forced his eyes from narrowing and his lips from sneering. Their innocence making his skin crawl. None more so than Harry Potter. He tried to keep his eyes from lingering too long, but always kept the boy within his sight. After all he was the very reason of why he was here. Trapped inside this body, and having to rely on another for life. He was the one who had cursed him into this existence.

Passing his eyes over the room again he rested them on a long table filled with silver, black and green. His vision soaking up every single body, hoping to find a loyal follower within the young faces. He immediately spotted a white blond head, a Malfoy. However, the golden blonde girl beside him grabbed his attention. There was . . . something, about her. Her tiny form holding a regal grace that stood out to him. A certain air in her presence. But that wasn't what he found most intriguing. There was a shadow in her, a dark storm brewing. A night-blooming jasmine that was getting ready to blossom. He watched her closely, trying to decipher her siren call. The invisible hand that stretched out to him. Opening up his inner sense, he reached out. There was definitely a darkness there, untouched, stirring, and waiting. His curiosity had grown deeper. The girl had . . . potential.

Harry woke up with a start. The scar stinging on his skin. Forcing his labored breath to return to normal, he rested on his back. Buffy. He had been dreaming about Buffy. Resting cool fingers over the still burning scar, Harry dissected the dream. He saw himself, during his first year at Hogwarts. He had felt a stinging anger within him, as he laid eyes on his younger version. A choking hatred grabbing at his lungs.

Then he saw Buffy. Young and looking innocent, with a fierce look in her luminous eyes. He had felt it. Something dark and old radiating from her. Almost primal. It drew him, called to him. And he wanted it. He craved it almost to obsession. Even now as he lay awake in his bed, Harry could feel the anxiousness crawling in his skin. It had felt so real, like a memory, but it was only a dream. A figment of imagination, it had to be. Rolling over to his side again, Harry repeated the words in his mind trying to find sleep again. His confused mind searching for ease, and trying to calm the storm of emotions running through him. It was only a dream. It was only a dream.

* * *

"What?" she asked.

He paused and Buffy could see him waver with the decision, again.

"N-nothing," he stuttered and went back to his work.

That was the third nothing he had said since she caught him staring at her and asked him what was going on. She was back to doing her homework when she felt his eyes again.

"Neville, your nothings would be a whole lot more convincing if you didn't keep looking at me like that," Buffy told him, her eyes still on the parchment she was writing on.

"Sorry," he blushed. "It's just . . . "

"Yes?" she asked, looking up expectantly.

His hands wrung nervously beneath the table, and his eyes shifted from side to side. What would be the harm? It's not like she wasn't allowed to know. As a matter of fact Hermione had told him that everyone who was interested was invited, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to tell her.

"Neville. I'm only going to ask you this one more time before I give up on it all together," she told him politely. "Now, what is it?"

"It's--it's just . . . " he stumbled again still trying to find the courage to say it. Why wasn't this easier? It was only an invitation, it's not like he was asking her to give him a kidney. Even so, he couldn't do it. His bruised esteem still wary of the new Buffy, no matter how many changes he saw in her.

"Never mind," he sighed in failure and buried himself back into the book.

Buffy smiled softly at his behavior. It was really sweet of him, trying to tell her about the meeting at Hogsmeade next week, but a little disconcerting that he didn't. What did that mean exactly?

The whole of Gryffindor House knew all about the meeting arranged by Hermione, Ron and Harry. It was pretty hard not to hear it when everyone kept talking about it. She even heard some of the other houses discussing it. Apparently it was a 'come all' kind of thing, which was not very smart. It's not that people weren't trustworthy. It's just that teenagers did have a nasty habit of spreading things around. Boy A would tell Girl C, who would pass it onto Girl D, and before they realized it Professor X knew all about it. Not good, especially when they wanted to keep it as secret as possible. Which Buffy guessed was the intention here. These kids really needed to learn that not everyone had the ability to keep their lips under lock and key.

No one had invited her directly, but they also didn't seem to mind talking about it while she was around. Which left her invitation in the grey area. She had thought about it. If it was open invite there was really nothing stopping her from attending, but she had yet to make her mind up on the subject. They may have eased off the glares, but they hadn't exactly given her a fruit basket either.

Packing it up, Buffy and Neville ended the study session early. Promising another one the week after next, seeing as it was Hogsmeade weekend next Saturday. Moving along the corridors and stairs to reach the Tower, Buffy, as usual, had her head in the clouds. Her mind stretching over everything from her Sunnydale friends, to homework and to the 'break up' between her mother and Sirius that Remus had written to her about. And her mother thought she was immature. In the middle of picturing the funny little fight scene in her head, she bumped into a by passer, nearly knocking the items out of her bag.

"Watch whe--"

"Sorry, I--"

Green eyes met silver ones, and their words were stopped cold. Funny enough those annoyed/apologetic words were the first ones they have spoken to each other since she had come back. An un-meet-cute if there ever was one.

There was so much she wanted to say. All the words resting on the tip of her tongue, but stuck on the edge. All she had to say was two little words. Ones she used every day, or almost every day recently, then segue way into a conversation. 'Hi, how are you?' See, simple enough. However all Buffy could do was pull a Marcel Marceau and stand by silently.

Draco felt the words tickling his throat, waiting to be bubbled up to the surface. His face clearly showing the confusion he felt stirring within him. All he had to do was open his mouth and ask the million questions he had thought of over the years. Demand why she left. Why she never wrote, where she had gone. But he was stuck.

"Draco," an annoying whiny voice said beside him, fully breaking him out of his stupor.

Buffy watched as he rolled his eyes and huffed under his breath. Biting her lower lip to keep from laughing, and if she didn't know any better she could've sworn a tiny smile lifted his lips as he watched at her. Noticing as she forced her laughs from spilling.

"Draco," Pansy whined again. Muzzles were seriously underappreciated.

Rolling his eyes again Draco walked off with Pansy, not once looking back. The smug look that was glued on Pansy's poochy face was not as confident as it used to be. Which amused to Buffy to no end, and she made it clear as she watched them walk off with a cocky smirk on her lips. The Slytherin girl's eyes shooting daggers at Buffy every once in a while before she disappeared. Pathetic, thy name is Pansy Parkinson

Finally reaching her room Buffy tossed her bag onto her bed before taking a seat herself. Stretching her legs across the mattress, she rested her back against the wooden board. Her eyes immediately moving to the window when she noticed a large bird fly into the room.

"Hey girl," she greeted warmly.

The eagle owl known as Deity, landed gracefully onto the soft mattress. Its dark feathers so black they shined blue, and her brilliant yellow eyes so vibrant they appeared golden. Buffy remembered the first day she had met her. Her father had given Deity to her as a present for being accepted into Hogwarts. She had fallen immediately in love with the owl. Who wouldn't have? She was beautiful. Then came the name. Buffy stuck to the originals of course, Princess, Missy, Daisy and every other girly pet name in the book. Her father was the one to suggest Deity, short for Aphrodite. A name he had to explain to a young Buffy, but once he did, she agreed.

After she and her mother had left to the U.S.A. Buffy had put Remus in charge of taking care of her beloved owl; cause having an owl in California wasn't really the best way to fit in. And now that they were back Deity had been returned to Buffy's care, and currently sticking out her leg to remove the letter tied to it.

Undoing the twine from around the owl's leg Buffy took the letter in her hands, and gave Deity a few treats in appreciation before it flew off.

Settling back into her previous position she opened the note and smiled widely when she saw that it was written on crisp lined notebook paper.

'Dear Buffy,

Hey Buffy it's Willow aaand Xander (he made me write it that way.) How are you? Everyone here's doing good, they all say hi by the way. We were so sorry to hear about what happened, guess your mom must've freaked huh? But at least she knows now, so no more secrets. How's boarding school? Is it horrible? Xander wants to know (and I do this under protest) he wants to know if there are uniforms involved. Preferably catholic ones. I know right?

I'm also sorry about the whole Angelus thing. I know you told Giles you were okay, but are you? You know you can tell me, no judging. I'm all ears, or eyes in this case. Giles told us you had written to him and that you had sent your warm regards. I know, so British. Anyway, since we have no way to reach you, we annoyed Giles 24/7 for an address. He told us that he knew where you were staying but had been sworn to secrecy, so after we mentally broke him down he promised to deliver any letters we wanted to send.

We miss you here. School just feels so strange without you, you know. Especially the Bronze, and our nightly adventures. Even Cordelia mentioned it, well sort of, you know how she is. Gets rashes from fluffy feelings. As far as the 'rabid dog hunting' goes it's been scary. We've gotten better, but it's not the same without you. Giles, thinks we'll be getting a new 'pest controller' soon, you know cause those rabid dogs can't go roaming around biting people. Giving them rabies and all.

We miss you, I know I already said that, but we do. I hope you're okay. That you're doing okay. I'd feel better if you wrote back soon. Oh, we can be like pen-pals, Yay! Xander and I can keep you posted on all things Sunnydale, right down to the newest gossip. And you can tell us all the dirty stuff that goes on boarding schools. It'll be fun.

Write soon, okay.

We love you,

Willow, Xander, Giles, Oz and maybe Cordelia.'

Folding the paper back up Buffy felt her eyes slightly water, yep she was a sucker all right. 'Nightly adventures,' 'Pest controller,' 'Rabid dogs,' as far as code words go, they could've done better, but at least it was something. They were okay, safe. She'd have to thank Giles for that. He was no doubt patrolling with them at night, and probably the one to suggest that they not write any slaying information in their letters. He was definitely a smarty.

God, it felt so good to hear from them. For the two minutes it took her to read the letter everything else disappeared. Draco, Harry, the friendlessness. She was right back in Sunnydale sharing a mocha at the Espresso Pump with Willow. Feeling the warm California sun on her skin. Going over demons of unspeakable evil and a dress she had found at April Fool's. You know, normal stuff.

Wiping at her eyes, Buffy tucked the note into Remus' notebook and underneath her pillow. Resting back into the softness she let her mind drift to memories past as she waited for lunch time to arrive. A secret smile tugging at her lips every now and then.

* * *

"We're tiny, we're toony, we're a little loony. And in this cartoony, we're invading your T.V. . . man I miss T.V."

Walking down the dark Forbidden Forest Buffy kept her eyes peeled for all sorts of fun lovin' danger. Still mildly irritated of the fact that she had never found the 'special door' again, and having to take the long route out of the castle. At least passing the Fat Lady was fun. Her irritated huffs of disapproval as Buffy left for the night, all she could say after her little meeting with Dumbledore. A meeting Buffy still teased her about.

It was only the third time she had sneaked it out in the past week. She wanted to slay sure, but she wasn't an idiot. Umbridge kept her beady little eyes open for any out of liners. Just waiting to catch them and send them up into her little dungeon. Even thinking about it now made her anger burn. The rounds had been going on about her extra special detentions. Buffy always believed the lady was evil incarnate. What kind of person does that? Makes you carve words into your skin. A sick, twisted, evil, sociopath that's who. Maybe Buffy should let herself be seen one day, and lead the psycho into the woods where many nasty things live, and if Umbridge were to 'accidentally' be lured into a nest of vampires it wouldn't really be like murder would it? Okay, bad thoughts, not nice Buffy. But still . . .

"Well look at what we have here," a low rumbling voice leered.

Spinning around quickly, full innocent expression in place, Buffy met herself some nasties of her own.

"H-hi," she stuttered. "Wh-who are you? W-what do you want?"

The vampires shared a confident smirk. Easy prey, they thought. Morons.

"Are you lost?" one of them asked.

Did they really think she didn't know what they were? Of course they were probably too stupid to realize that she was giving off her own supernatural vibes.

"Uh, yeah. M-my cat ran out here and I was just looking for her," Buffy said, filling her voice with uncertainty.

"Oh, that's too bad. We'll help you find her, won't we Ben?"

"Yes, of course we will," 'Ben' smiled, in that creepy eat your liver kind of way.

"Really?" Buffy asked. Her innocent eyes widening in hope.

"Of course," the other one grinned. Advancing toward her.

There was a grunt, a yelp and a cloud of dust soon fell to the ground.

"Liar," Buffy said.

A growl erupted out of Vampire Ben and he moved himself into a fighting stance. "Slayer."

"Vampire," she countered back.

The creature leapt to her, and Buffy was more than ready for him. Stepping out of the way she kicked him in the back as he staggered for balance. Which caused him to fall into a low tree branch, and firmly ending his existence.

"Well that was no fun," she pouted wiping the dust from her clothes. "Stupid fledglings. Always getting themselves killed. Idiots."

Huffing at the fact that her antsiness had not been put to good use, she headed back toward the castle. Staying out too late might cause her to very well be the subject of Umbridge's special attention, and defacing her skin was not really in her plans.

"We're tiny, we're toony, we're all a little– damn, it. Okay, new song. Da nuh nah, naaah nah nuh nah nuh, and we're zany to the max, so just sit back and relax, you'll laugh till you– ugh, stupid cartoons."

* * *

Note: I updated, yay! Sorry for taking sooooo looooooong. I was busy finishing my other story (and thank you to all those who reviewed by the way), but now I have and can concentrate on this story now. Which as Martha Stewart says, 'it's a good thing.' Hopefully that means faster updates as well. Hope, you're not too mad :(


	18. Chapter 18

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

Hogsmeade weekend. A joyous event every Hogwarts student looks forward to, but only those with permission are allowed to go. The halls were filled with cheery excited voices. The very first visit of the year was always the best. Lined up at the entrance, they all waited for Filch to check them off on his list, before they were allowed to go into the bright and windy morning.

"Where are we going anyway?" Harry asked. "The Three Broomsticks?"

The Trio were making their way toward the outskirts of the village. To a meeting Harry was still unsure about. He and Ron following Hermione's lead, wherever that may be.

"Oh, no. It's always packed and really noisy. I've told the others to meet us at the Hogs Head, the other pub, you know the one, it's not on the main road. I think it's a bit . . . you know . . . dodgy . . . but students don't normally go in there, so I don't think we'll be overheard," she answered plainly.

They finally arrived at a small inn with a beaten wooden sign of a boar's severed head leaking blood on the cloth around it, creaking in the wind. Lovely. Just the stuff dreams are made of.

"Well," Hermione breathed deeply, as they hesitated at the entrance. "Come on then."

Walking into the place, Harry immediately scrunched up his nose. No, wait, this is the stuff dreams are made of. The floor, tables, chairs, and even the windows were heavily coated with so much grime that it made Grimmauld Place look like a hospital. The only light coming from short stubby candles sitting on table tops. Seeing as the windows had dirt curtains pasted to them. The floor beneath their feet so heavy with filth that its stones lay near invisible. And to make matters worse there was some kind of a goat stench floating around in the air.

"Lovely spot," Ron dryly commented.

"I don't know about this Hermione," Harry muttered, his eyes sweeping over the place. Surprised when they landed on a small blonde sitting near the bar.

"What is she doing here?" Ron spat.

There Buffy was, sitting casually at an empty table with a book in her hands and a butterbeer in front of her. Not giving their presence in the room any attention, which bothered Harry. Seeing as he was always painfully aware of hers.

"Maybe she's here for the meeting," Harry responded. A tiny flicker of hope rising in his chest.

"Doubt it. Who would invite her?"

"Neville, most likely," Hermione answered, finally entering the conversation.

"Neville?" Harry asked, quickly giving her his attention.

"They seem to be spending a lot of time together," she said.

"Why?" Ron nearly chuckled, finding the idea of it laughable for some reason.

Why indeed. A stinging feeling rose up in Harry's chest. His green eyes narrowing slightly at the blonde girl ahead of him.

"Studying I suppose. I see them in the library every Saturday morning, sometimes even during the week."

"Alone?" Harry asked, forcing his tone to remain natural.

"Yeah. I think she's been helping him with Potions. He's been getting better at it," she shrugged off.

"So, you think he might've asked her?"

"I'm not sure. He didn't tell me he did, so I don't know."

"Well there's only one way to find out," Ron said, making his way over to their subject of conversation.

Buffy turned the page casually, using it as a front as she listened to their conversation. She had been one of the first ones to leave the castle. Having risen early every Saturday for the past month had become habit. She really had no desire to visit the shops in Hogsmeade. Strange enough, being in a room full of people by herself would have made her feel more alone then ever. However she did step into Honeydukes for a while, to stock up on supplies that would last her for months.

She watched as everyone else laughed and played in their freedom for the day, as she casually strode to the Hogs Head. Buffy had finally decided to not partake in the little meeting the students had planned, but that didn't mean she would stay away. She was strictly there on reconnaissance, and as she walked into the dingy little place she knew she wasn't the only one. In a corner by the fireplace was Mundungus, a member of the Order, covered in a black veil from head to foot. Her only reason for knowing it was him was when he had lifted his veil for a second and shot her a wink. See, point proven that secret meetings shouldn't be shared with the world, but he was most likely here to guard Harry; cause apparently a bona fide slayer wasn't enough. Buffy hadn't even told Dumbledore about the meeting, not until she was sure what the whole thing was about. Not that he needed to be told, he always knew what was going on at Hogwarts.

"What are you doing here?" Ron demanded standing in front of her.

Buffy looked up at him with her bright hazel green eyes and Ron felt his cheeks redden slightly. No wait, what was he doing? He hated her remember. Hated.

"Am I not supposed to be here?" she asked innocently.

He cleared his throat nervously, had she always been this pretty? No wait, off track. "Don't give me that. Did Neville ask you to come here?"

"Was he supposed to?"

Harry could see the tips of Ron's ears turning red from irritation, and as funny as that was, he knew he needed to put a stop to it before any loss of control happened. However, the female of their group stepped in before he had a chance.

"We just wanted to know if Neville invited you to the meeting we were having here," Hermione calmly asked her.

"There's a meeting?"

Now they could see why Ron's ears had turned red. She was sitting there as serene as could be. Her voice calm and sweet, and it was annoying as hell.

"Well, if you're not here for the meeting, than why are you?" Hermione asked, trying to keep her cool.

"Needed a place to sit, and seeing as the Three Broomsticks has reached maximum occupancy, and Madam Puddifoot's is preparing itself for a flood, figured this was my best bet. Unless of course you want me to sit out in the cold and start beggin' for change," she said.

"I see no problems with that," Ron spoke, grunting when he felt Hermione's elbow in his stomach.

"All right, guess we should just . . . leave you to your reading," Hermione said. "Come on," she told Harry and Ron, leading them to the bar.

Harry looking behind him as he followed, watching as Buffy settled back into her book again.

"Three butterbeers please," Hermione requested of the grouchy and vaguely familiar barman that had come out of the back room.

"We're having a flood?" Ron asked as they were handed their drinks.

"What?" Hermione asked in confusion.

"Six sickles," the barman demanded.

"I've got it," Harry volunteered and handed the money over.

"She said Madam Puddifoot's was preparing for a flood," Ron told her.

"She was making a reference to Noah's Ark. Where every creature on Earth was paired off into . . . well . . . an ark, because of a flood that would wipe out the wickedness from the land," she answered.

"Oh," he nodded. The three of them walking over to a table at the far back of the room, where no one could hear their conversation. "Who's Noah?"

"Long story," Harry brushed off, and turning to Hermione. "So who do you suppose is meeting us here?"

"Just a couple of people," she answered, suspiciously refusing to meet his eyes sipping on her drink.

There was a loud creaking sound and a beam of light filtered into the room. Right before it was blocked by a large crowd stepping in through the doorway. Buffy looked up and watched as they made their way over to the Trio. Spotting familiar faces, most of them not spotting her. She saw Neville and he gave her a curious look before he followed the rest of them. Ginny's however was even more curious. She looked at Buffy with wide brown eyes, like she was trying to convey a message. One Buffy didn't have enough time to decipher, because Ginny had turned her eyes forward again.

"A couple of people? A couple of people?" Harry gruffly said to Hermione as he noticed the group.

"Yes, well, Ron could you pull up some more chairs please," Hermione requested, brushing off Harry's words.

Fred was the first one to reach the bar, and after counting his fellow patriots he turned over to the grouchy barman. "Hi, can we have twenty-five butterbeers please?"

Flopping down the dirty rag in his hand in annoyance, the man crabbily began to pass up the dusty bottles from under the bar.

"All right everyone, I haven't gotten enough gold for all of these, so cough up," Fred told them.

After their butterbeers were paid for, they all moved over to where Harry, Ron and Hermione had been seated in a back corner of the room. Chairs moving around and causing a great distraction. Fine examples of incognito, they were.

"Hi Harry," Neville smiled taking a seat opposite him.

Harry didn't really have the heart to smile back, but did so forcefully. But he didn't speak, not really confident in himself to say anything pleasant to Neville at the moment. His eyes quickly threw a glance over the bar to Buffy, where just the top of her head was visible. His hands fidgeting and trying his best to avoid glaring at the plump boy before him.

Passing his eyes over the group, who were still in the middle of getting themselves seated, Harry paused on Cho. Her pretty face smiling at him, and he politely returned it. Confused as to why his stomach wasn't currently flip flopping.

"Er, well . . . hi," Hermione nervously began. Garnering everyone's attention, and taking it off Harry. "Well . . . erm . . . you all know why we're here. We're here because we want to learn Defense Against the Dark Arts. I mean really learn it, not that rubbish that Umbridge has been teaching us. And to do that I think it would be best if we took matters into our own hands. And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just in theory, but actual spells. Real defensive spells."

So that's what they were up to. Taking another casual sip of her butterbeer, Buffy kept her ears trained. If it weren't for her slayer hearing the most she would've picked up would've been undetectable murmurs. Something they no doubt believed as well. She glanced over to Mundungus, who must have felt her stare, because he quickly turned in her direction. Then answered her silent question when he gave her a curt nod, proving that he could clearly hear them on his end.

There were a few yelps, and Buffy refocused her attention again. There was only one name feared enough to cause that kind of reaction, and she wondered who was the brave one to say it. Which seemed to be Hermione by the sound of it.

"Well . . . that's the plan anyway. If you want to join us than we need to decided how to--"

"Where's the proof? Where's the proof that You-Know-Who's back?" a blonde boy demanded.

"Well, Dumbledore believes it," Hermione pointedly answered.

"Dumbledore believes him," the boy indicated to Harry.

"Who are you?" Ron rudely asked.

"Zacharias Smith, and I think we have a right to know why he believes that You-Know-Who's back."

"Why?" Harry spoke up, the first since the group had gathered. His anger over Zacharias' rudeness making him unable to stay silent any longer. "You all know why you're here, what this meeting was about. This is about learning D.A.D.A. Dumbledore told all of you last year about Voldemort's return, nothings changed," he cringed when he noticed the still small yelps of mentioning Voldemort's name.

"All Dumbledore told us was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who," Zacharias pushed on. "He didn't give us details. Maybe if you could tell us how--"

"I'm not going to talk about Cedric," he snapped, making a few people jump in surprise. The anger growing higher within him. "Cedric got murdered. And if you want proof that Voldemort's back, all I can give you is my word. I'm not going to whip out his head from my pocket, or show you his wand in my hand. I don't have pictures or portraits or any other kind of evidence. This isn't what the meeting was supposed to be about, and if all of you believed it was, why are you here? If you don't like it, you can clear out now."

The whole group held their breath, but nobody moved. Shocked and a little afraid of Harry's evident anger. And across the room Buffy held a proud smirk on her lips.

"Harry's right," Hermione began after the stint of silence. "This isn't about Cedric or proving that . . . V-Voldemort has returned. This meeting is about learning Defense Against the Dark Arts, to learn how to defend ourselves. Now, for all those who are still interested in learning, we need to work out a schedule . . . "

The conversation continued. Various people asking Harry about his achievements along the way. Wanting to know about the Sorcerer's Stone, his Patronus, and when Buffy heard basilisk, she nearly choked on her butterbeer. Relieved when she didn't catch her name following the Chamber of Secrets. The next thing she heard was Hermione convincing them to put their names on a list, and after many reassurances, the group seemed to have agreed because they began to file out. Buffy keeping her eyes on her book again.

She felt a shadow over her, and raising her eyes she found Ginny standing near her table. Her brown eyes looking hesitant. Before the redhead had a chance to speak, she was pulled away by her friends, the girls casting wary glances in Buffy's direction. Buffy let her vision follow her until she left the room, then she caught sight of Neville, and she saw the torn decision in his eyes. Smiling reassuringly that she was okay, he smiled back and left.

Harry not too far off, caught the exchange. His balled up fists stuffed into his pockets as he coldly watched Neville exiting the room. Then turning his green eyes to Buffy, he felt the burning in his stomach again when she sat back without a care in the world.

"Do you think she heard anything?" Ron whispered, nodding over to Buffy.

"I don't think so. We were too far away, and unless she had Fred and George's Extendable Ears . . . " Hermione answered.

"I don't think she heard anything," Harry nearly snapped out. "At the most maybe a word or two, but nothing important."

The Trio made their way to the door, each of them searching Buffy's face for some sort of sign. But she was just as they had left her the last time. Sitting casually and reading a book. Seemingly unaware of what had occurred feet away and minutes ago.

Only when the door closed behind them, did Buffy finally put the stupid book down. She had been on page forty-two forever. The 'witch' in the black veil came to her table. Taking a dainty seat down.

"How are you my dear?" the wobbly high-pitched voice asked.

"I'm doing great, how are you_ ma'am_?"

Beneath the material Buffy could see a wide spread grin on Mundungus' face, joining her own amused one.

Taking a swig from her bottle, Buffy set it back down and began to pack up her stuff. Back to business. "I'll tell Mr. D and you can inform the rest."

He gave her a firm nod and they both rose from the table.

"By the way, I like the black. Very slimming," she told him.

"Thank you, I'm trying to watch my figure," he said in that girly voice again.

Turning away from her, Mundungus strutted to the door, yes strutted, and walked out. Shaking her head, Buffy waited a few more minutes and followed his lead. Heading straight for the castle.

* * *

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	19. Chapter 19

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

_BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS_

_All student organizations, societies, teams, groups and clubs are henceforth disbanded._

_An organization, society, team, group or club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students._

_Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Dolores Umbridge.)_

_No student organization, society, team, group or club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor._

_Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an organization, society, team, group or club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled._

_The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four._

_Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor._

"This isn't a coincidence," Harry nearly snarled. "She knows."

Ron and Harry stood before the intruding sign on the notice board in the common room. Feeling as though the large black letters were smirking at them, knowing something it shouldn't.

"She can't," Ron countered back.

"I wonder if Hermione's seen this," Harry muttered looking toward the door of the girl's dormitory.

"We should let her know," Ron said already making his way over.

The redheaded wizard made it six steps up the spiral stairway before a loud, wailing sound pierced the air, and the stone steps merged to form one slippery slide.

"I don't think we're allowed to go up there," Harry grinned at this friend, who now lay rumpled on the floor.

"I didn't know that could happen. Its not fair!" Ron complained, rising to his feet with a little help from Harry. "How come Hermione's allowed to go into our dormitory, and we're not?"

Swooping neatly down the makeshift slide, Hermione rose to her feet and answered his question. "It's an old-fashioned school rule. It says in Hogwarts A History, that the founders believed girls to be more trustworthy than boys. Why were you going up there anyway?"

"To show you this," Ron told her, dragging her to the notice board.

Hermione read over the sign quickly, her face melting from one of curiosity to that of worry.

"Someone must've told her," Ron bit out.

"They couldn't 've," she muttered.

"You're so naive. Not everyone's all noble and trustworthy like--"

"I put a jinx on the parchment we all signed Ron," Hermione interrupted. "If someone did tell Umbridge we'd know exactly who they are, and believe me, they would regret it."

"Why? What'll happen . . . " Ron trailed off when an idea suddenly struck him. His face turning red, and his voice coming out cold. "What if it was someone who didn't sign the parchment."

Harry caught onto his friends implication, and all the air seemed to have escaped his lungs.

"Buffy," Hermione lowly concluded. A shot of betrayal running through her eyes.

"She must've heard more than we realized," said Ron.

"B-but how? She was too far away."

"I don't know, but it's more than a coincidence. She was in the Hogs Head, she didn't sign the parchment, and--AND she was a Slytherin. It all adds up."

Unfortunately, it did all add up. No, no! He can't think that way. Buffy wouldn't do something like this, and Hermione was right, Buffy was too far away to hear anything. Harry felt like his brain was pounding against his skull. Buffy couldn't have done it. She couldn't have. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized he was trying to convince himself instead of denying it.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, wanting to know his opinion.

"I, uh . . . I don't know," he said.

She narrowed her eyes in questioning for a moment, but didn't push it. "We should probably head down to breakfast. See if this has been posted in all of the other houses."

Which evidently it was. As Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way into the Hall, there was more chatter and movement than what would be considered everyday. And just as they took their seats, Ginny, Neville, Dean, Fred and George bombarded them with questions.

"Did you see it?"

"D' you reckon she knows?"

"D' you think someone told her?"

"We know who told her," Ron answered firmly.

"Who?" they asked.

"The only other student who was in the room but not in the meeting. The rotten person who would do anything to get us into trouble."

"Buffy," Fred and George said simultaneously.

"You think she heard us?" Dean asked.

"She had to have had," Fred said.

"How else would've Umbridge found out," George continued.

"Buffy wasn't even near us. She couldn't 've known," Ginny tried to reason.

"Than how do you explain it?" Lee Jordan asked, who had entered the conversation after he heard the accusation. And he wasn't the only one who had heard either. By now Buffy's name had been dragged through the mud. People eaves dropping on the conversation, since Harry had been surrounded by his housemates, were now passing it along to those who had been in the Hogs Head on Saturday. Making her once again Public Enemy #1.

"I don't know, but I--"

"Face it Ginny. It doesn't matter how she did it. What matters is that she did," Ron stated.

It was loud. Buffy could hear it all the way through the doors. Must be that sign in the common room. She really didn't need loud today. She was nothing but a walking bruise, thanks to a particularly aggressive demon she had encountered in the forest yesterday. A half-human half-lizard looking thing that apparently believed Buffy was its punching bag. Wincing slightly as she pulled the door open, she began to wonder why she had gotten out of bed at all. It's not like she would really be missed. Walking into the Hall, all the loud noises she had heard seeping through the wood seconds ago hushed down just a little lower, and she could see a few eyes burning in her direction. Great what did she do now?

"Ms. Summers, just the person I was looking for."

Buffy screwed her face up in annoyance at the grating voice, before putting on a friendly expression and turning around.

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge. What can I do for you?" she smiled.

"If you'll follow me please," she said sweetly.

Umbridge didn't give her a chance to agree, as she walked back out expecting the blond to follow. Which Buffy did, irritatingly.

The door closed behind them and the voices got louder again.

"You see? She's probably passing along more information to that old toad," said Ron angrily.

"What are we gonna do Harry?" Hermione asked, hoping to turn the conversation another way, because the current one was giving her a headache. "About . . . you know . . . are we still going to . . . "

She was limping. It wasn't obvious, but Harry always seemed to be a little more aware of Buffy then the rest of them. Why was she limping? When he heard his name, Harry immediately pulled himself out of his wondering, and when he passed his eyes over the group he noticed Neville looking toward the door worriedly. Harry brush it off for now, as he looked around to make sure the coast was clear.

"We're going to go through with it of course," he answered, everyone else smiling in relief.

Buffy sat in Professor Umbridge's office, feeling like she was trapped inside of a Pepto Bismol bottle. Along with the many kittens that moved and meowed within their ornamental plates, and the dried up smelly flowers that stood inside their tacky vases.

"Would you care for some tea, dear?" Umbridge offered, behind her tidy desk.

"No, thank you," Buffy politely rebuffed.

"I insist," she smiled forcefully.

Buffy didn't like that look in her eye, and was getting some serious 'drink the Kool-Aid' kind of vibes. "No. Thank you," she firmly denied.

If Umbridge had feathers, they'd be ruffling right about now. Huffing slowly, she cleared her throat, and put on a happy face.

"Now, dear." Buffy was beginning to hate that word. "You must know why I called you in here?"

"Not really."

"Well it seems that our dear--" There's that word again. "--Mr. Filch has reported to me that he saw you entering the castle last night. In the very late hours, well past curfew."

A wince, a blink, a gasp, anything to catch her, but Buffy's face remained blank.

"Sorry Professor, but I think Mr. Filch must've seen someone else. I was in my room all night," she easily told her.

"Is that so?" Her voice skeptical. "Do you have any proof?"

"Does he?"

If her beady eyes narrowed any further, they would've disappeared into her head.

The loud sound of the bell suddenly rang, signaling the start of the first class. Picking up her bag from the floor, Buffy rose up.

"Guess that's my cue. I'd better--"

"Sit down, Ms. Summers," she ordered.

"But what about--"

"A bell doesn't dismiss you. I do."

Reigning in her anger, Buffy sat back down. Doing her best to not jump over the desk and strangle her teacher; because apparently that would be a bad thing.

"Now dear, I get the feeling that you're not being completely honest with me," she said, switching immediately back to the fake sugary voice.

"Can't say what would make you feel that way. I said where I was last night."

"Why are you limping?" she suddenly asked.

"Excuse me?" Crap.

"I noticed you where limping as you walked toward the Great Hall earlier."

Buffy eyed her for a second. There's no way she could've known. Then again Giles did say that Fudge and Travers were particularly close, so it was a definite maybe. But she wasn't about to confess her slayerness on a maybe.

"I stubbed my toe this morning," she evenly replied.

"I see," Umbridge mumbled.

They were both fighting for superiority. Buffy wasn't about to back down, and Umbridge was not going to let a child get the best of her . . . again.

"You are keeping secrets from me Ms. Summers, and I will not allow that in my school."

"With all do respect Professor. This isn't your school. Professor Dumbledore is the Headmaster of Hogwarts."

"For now," she grinned, her eyes laughing suspiciously.

"What do you mean by that?" Buffy narrowed her eyes. Not liking the threatening tone in her voice.

"You are excused Ms. Summers. But know that I will be watching you."

Forcing herself to remain calm Buffy stood with her bag in hand and walked toward the door. Pausing just as her hand reached the knob. There's no way she was going to let the old bag have the last word.

"Oh, by the way Professor, I like the cats," she smiled politely, even more so when Umbridge fell for the hook and smiled back. "My aunt used to have cats too, but then she got married. Have a nice day." Sometimes Umbridge made it way too easy.

Buffy caught a glimpse of the toad's purple face before shutting the door behind her. Walking out of the empty classroom, she wondered if Umbridge just canceled her classes whenever she pleased. Not very orderly. Checking her watch she realized it was way too late to go to History of Magic, darn it. Having time to do nothing Buffy went up to the library to finish up her letter to the Scoobies, and maybe do some studying. Waiting it out until her next class.

_Today, same time, same place_. That was in the note from Sirius that Hedwig had delivered to Harry during History of Magic. The delivery that had somehow gotten Hedwig's wing to bend in a weird way. After handing her over to Professor Grubbly-Plank so she could be healed, Harry went to find his friends after class had ended. To pass on the information about Sirius' appointment for the fireplace. Leaving them to wonder if someone might have read the message before he had a chance to reach it, seeing as Hedwig had never been hurt during a delivery before.

Walking toward Potions, the Trio couldn't help but overhear Draco's boasting about the Slytherin Quidditch team being re-formed. Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four, included Quidditch teams as well, and Angelina had begged Harry once again to not anger Professor Umbridge for fear that Gryffindor might not be given permission to re-form its team.

Faces twisted in rage, Ron and Harry listened as Draco moved on to make fun of Ron's father and Harry's no doubt future place in St. Mungo's insanity ward. However, it wasn't Hermione's pleading that stopped them from going after Draco, but Neville's own surprising mission to see the Slytherin beaten to a bloody pulp.

They were glaring at her again. The moment she walked out of the library after break, all Buffy seemed to see were glares. Still making her wonder what the hell she had done. Moving her way through the crowds and corridors to the dungeons, she heard Harry's urgent voice reaching her ears.

"Neville, no!"

Speeding up her pace, she was taken aback at the scene. Harry and Ron were currently holding a red faced Neville back from a shocked Draco. Boys.

Pushing past everyone, she placed herself in front of Neville. Putting a strong hand on his chest to hold him back.

"Neville," she said gently, to get his attention. "Neville," she repeated a little firmer.

Eyes narrowed, and lips pressed together he finally turned to her. She didn't say anything, but raised an eyebrow that spoke volumes. Breathing hard, Neville looked around him, and shrugging off Harry, Ron and Buffy's objections he walked into the classroom silently.

Sighing in relief, Buffy turned around to face the one person she knew had started it. Her reproachful stare making him squirm. Only Buffy could make Draco feel sorry with just one look.

"Defending your boyfriend Summers, aw how sweet," Pansy drawled. Irked at the reaction Draco had gotten at Buffy's disapproving look.

Switching her view over to the pug faced Slytherin girl, Buffy just rolled her eyes. Not giving Pansy the satisfaction of falling for the bait, she pushed past her and went into the classroom. She really didn't feel like having a word to bark contest, not after the morning she had.

They watched her go, all of them surprised at what had just happened. But Harry and Draco were more than just surprised. What exactly was going on between Neville and Buffy? And as they faced each other at the exact same time they couldn't help but notice the mirrored looks of irritation on each others faces. Leaving them to wonder on that too.

"What was all that about?" Buffy whispered harshly when she reached him at their table.

"It's none of your business," Neville snapped in a hushed tone.

"Look, I get that you're angry. But don't take it out on me okay. If I hadn't stepped in Crabbe and Goyle would've ripped you to pieces. I was only trying to help you," she snapped back.

His stiff shoulders relaxed and his body sagged tiredly, knowing that she was right. "I-I know, thank you. But I just . . . I don't wanna talk about it right now okay?" he pleaded.

Buffy noticed his immediate turn around and let her anger wash away as well. "Okay," she nodded. Understanding fully well when private matters wanted to stay private.

Neville smiled in gratefulness, and decided to repay the favor. Looking around the room, he noticed that very few people were around, but that it would change very soon.

"Listen Buffy, there's something you need to know," he whispered looking around him again. "Everybody thinks you were the one who told Umbridge about the meeting at the Hog's Head."

"What?" she asked in surprise.

A rush of students came into the room. Looking around her Buffy could still see cold eyes in her direction, but now they made sense. They believed she was the one who told Umbridge. Did they not know she hated her? That giving the opportunity Buffy would pull out her wand and painfully–

The door of the classroom banged shut and everyone became quiet. Professor Snape billowing into the room and ahead of the class.

"You will notice that we have a guest with us today," he sneered, gesturing to the corner where Umbridge sat with a clipboard in her hands.

Buffy felt the air thicken around her and her blood boiling in rage. That stupid, toad-faced, Pepto wearing, cat loving–

"We are continuing with our Strengthening Solution today. You will find your mixtures as you left them the last lesson. Instructions are on the board. Carry on," he ordered.

There was noise again, and everyone began working on their assignment.

"I didn't," Buffy told Neville while she fiddled with her potion.

He turned to her in confusion, before he remembered what he had told her. "I know," he said sincerely.

Buffy was partly shocked to hear him say that, but a warm fuzzy feeling settled in her stomach. Neville actually gave her the benefit of the doubt.

"Thank you," she said.

He merely nodded and went to work on his potion. Confident that he wouldn't mess it up this time.

"Now . . . how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" Umbridge asked, as she followed Snape around. The bottle in Buffy's hand nearly crunching at the sound of her voice.

"Fourteen years," he replied.

"You originally applied for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, I believe?"

"Yes," he answered quietly, obviously irritated of the question.

"But you were . . . unsuccessful?"

"Obviously," he said. His lips curling.

That little scene brought a smile to Buffy's face, and just for a moment her day got a little bit brighter.

* * *

The cold stares, the hushed voices didn't stop. Everywhere she went, people had reverted back to treating her just like they had at the start of term. Now, most of the school believed she was the one who had convinced Umbridge to pass Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four, because apparently she just had that much power.

"This is all her fault!" Ron complained.

"It was bad enough with the secret meetings, but Quidditch as well?" said Angelina.

"They've probably struck up a deal or something," Lavender imputed.

"She's probably down there with the Slytherins right now, laughing over this whole thing," Alicia Spinnet bit out.

"I still believe she didn't say anything," Ginny voiced, gaining the rooms attention.

"Yeah, I'm starting to get that. Why do you keep defending her?" George asked.

"Because I do. Buffy--"

"Buffy is nothing more than a lying snake," said Fred.

"After everything Buffy did to--"Ron started.

"Buffy didn't do anything! How many times do I have to tell you that? It wasn't her fault."

"Ginny's right. Buffy wouldn't do something like this," Neville said.

"You would believe her," Ron snorted.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means now that you've become the best of friends you think you can trust her. Have you forgotten how she used to treat you? Us? Treated Ginny?"

"Ron that's not--" his sister scorned.

"I'm not saying that I trust her. I'm saying that Buffy's changed. She just wouldn't do something like this," Neville stated.

"We don't know that Neville," Harry quietly said. Anger and jealousy clouding his mind. "Just because you've been hanging around her doesn't mean you know her."

"I know her better than anybody here," he said confidently, his own anger rising and not really sure why.

"Really?" Harry felt a burning in his chest. "Why's that? Just because you've shared a few little study sessions?"

"Because I've actually given her a chance."

The entire room was looking between Neville and Harry like a ping-pong match. Feeling the tension between the two. And that was how she found them.

Buffy stepped through the portrait hole and was shocked to see Harry and Neville standing, looking like they were facing off. Noticed Harry's angry stare as he looked at her, and Neville's apologetic one as he did the same. You have got to be kidding? Not wanting to deal with that, she looked around the common room. Big mistake, because they all looked like they wanted to kill her. Except for Ginny, who had the same look she had since the last time Buffy saw her.

She didn't need this. Not tonight. It was bad enough that she couldn't go out and slay because she was under surveillance by Umbridge, or that she was still a Smurfette because last night's demon beat her harder than she thought, but she still had the 'We Hate Buffy' club on her back. Screw it all. She didn't need this. Ignoring everyone, she went upstairs, hoping to sleep everything off. She'd deal with all this crap tomorrow.

* * *

By the end of the night everyone had calmed down, and gone to bed. Except for Harry, Ron and Hermione who were busy talking to Sirius in the fireplace.

" . . . the Ministry's enforced another decree, which means we're not allowed to have Quidditch Teams--"

"Or secret Defense Against the Dark Arts groups?" Sirius grinned.

"How do you know that?" Harry asked.

"Maybe Buffy told him," Ron mumbled angrily.

"Buffy?" Sirius asked.

"Don't worry about it," Harry told him. All three of them mistaking Sirius's surprise for confusion. "So how did you find out?"

"You might wanna choose your meeting places more carefully. The Hog's Head, I ask you."

"Well it's better than the Three Broomsticks. That's always packed with people," Hermione defended herself.

"Which means you'll be harder to overhear. You've got a lot to learn Hermione."

"Who overheard us?" Harry demanded.

"Mundungus, of course. He was the witch under the black veil. He was keeping an eye on you."

"I'm still being followed?" he growled.

"Yes, you are. Just as well if the first thing you do on your weekend off is organize an illegal defense group."

"You think it's a bad idea?" Harry asked unsurely from the way Sirius's words sounded.

"Certainly not! I think it's a brilliant idea!" he smiled.

"You do?"

"Of course I do! I think learning to defend yourselves properly is a great idea!" he cheered on. "So, where are you meeting?"

"That's the problem. We don't know where we're able to go. There's about twenty-eight of us," Harry said.

"Oh, well that is a problem. How about--"

Sirius broke off his words, alarmed. Looking at something to his side, the others couldn't see.

"Sirius?" Harry asked worriedly, but he was gone.

"Why did he--"

The three of them gasped when a hand poked through the flames. A short, stubby hand that Harry recognized immediately. Shooting up from their seats, they ran for it. Not one of them stopping until they were in the safety of their rooms.

* * *

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	20. Chapter 20

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

First year . . .

Ron was in a bad mood. Pushing down the crowded corridors to reach the outside, he was still bitter over Hermione upstaging him during Charms class.

"It's no wonder she hasn't got any friends. She's a nightmare honestly," he complained to Harry.

Someone pushed between them as they rushed past. A bundle of books cradled to their chest and tears in their eyes.

"I think she heard you," said Harry, as they watched Hermione hurry away.

Those insufferable, ungrateful twits. She was only trying to help them. It's not her fault that they didn't know what they were doing. That they didn't bother studying or listening to the teacher. They didn't have to be so cruel.

Hermione was completely deep into her internal rumbling that she wasn't aware of where she was going. Unfortunately causing her to bump right into someone she always tried to avoid.

"Granger, you okay?"

Hermione immediately stopped and turned to her right. Her teary eyes narrowing.

"Like you care?" she bit out.

Buffy stood there with a masked look of concern on her face. Her Slytherin crew behind her. She had overhead what Weasley had told her, and couldn't very well pass up the opportunity now could she. "Is it what Potter and Weasley said?"

Hermione didn't answer, as she kept her sight to the ground and wiped at her eyes.

"Now Granger, you shouldn't be upset because of that. After all they were only telling you the truth. It's not their fault you're a know-it-all loser, who no one likes to be around. Maybe you should take it to heart and realize that maybe being a complete pain in ass isn't the best way to cure your leprosy," Buffy smiled.

The tears gathered more fiercely in her eyes and Hermione stormed away. Pansy shrieking in laughter. Draco, Crabbe and Goyle chuckling heartedly. And Buffy only watching her go, already bored with the situation.

Harry and Ron walked past them, both of them shooting hateful glares in Buffy's direction.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. You were the ones who told her she didn't have any friends remember," she taunted them. Smiling, when she saw their guilty expressions. "And she actually considered you two to be her best mates. Helped you out because she actually cared, and this is how you repay her. So much for all that Gryffindor loyalty."

"Good job Potter," Draco smirked. "I guess, unlike you, Granger couldn't tell the wrong sort for herself."

Buffy and Draco, along with their Slytherin crew, confidently walked off. The arrogant smirks still firmly placed on their lips.

* * *

There wasn't a single sound in the room. She was alone. Buffy lay motionless on her bed trying to find the strength to move and deal with the rest of the day, but finding it difficult with each passing minute. Pulling up any courage she had, she finally rose up and moved the bed curtains out of the way.

"Hermione," she pulled back in surprise. Guess her senses weren't as sharp as she thought.

"I actually gave you a chance," she said. Her arms crossed protectively over her chest and her eyes hard. "When you came back, I noticed you were different. You weren't mean. You just kept to yourself. And then I noticed you were helping Neville with his studies, and I believed you had actually changed."

"I have changed. I'm not the same person I was back then."

"That's a laugh," she snorted. "You haven't changed at all. This was all some game to you wasn't it? Luring us into a false sense of security before you stabbed us in the back."

"Stabbed who in the back? It's not like everyone welcomed me with open arms. All of you are so willing to see me as the same old Buffy that you won't even give me the chance to prove that I'm not the same person I was!"

"I did give you a chance!"

"When? When you ignored me? When you dissed me behind my back? When you gave me the stink eye every time I passed by?"

"When I gave you the assignments you missed, when you ran out of Divinations so upset that you couldn't leave your room for the rest of day!" she snapped.

Physically pulling back, Buffy paused. "That-that was you?"

"Yes, that was me. I heard you leaving that night. I figured you were too upset to sleep, so I didn't say anything. But I copied down the assignments and left them on your bed, because I actually felt sympathy for you."

"Hermione, I--"

"People told me you were on the verge of tears that day, and that's when I started to think that maybe you weren't the same person anymore. Because the old Buffy Summers wouldn't show weakness no matter what, but it was all a lie. Another part of your twisted little game."

"No, that's not--"

"I can't stop you from being friends with Neville. It's his choice if he wants to associate with someone like you. But stay away from Harry. I see the way you look at him. The way he looks at you. I don't know what kind of history you two have and I don't care, but I will not let you hurt him. He's one of my best friends and he's already been put through too much. So I'm only going to say this one more time. Stay. Away. From Harry."

Buffy opened her mouth but she was already gone. That was the first time she had ever found Hermione to be scary. Creepy, Norman Bates scary.

Dropping her head into her hands Buffy swallowed her heavy emotions one more day, which was becoming harder and harder to do. Listening to the rain pouring outside her window, realizing it fitted her mood perfectly. Sucking it up once again, she moved off her bed. Stripping out of her clothes, she changed into her uniform, ready to brave the hateful waters ahead.

* * *

"Umbridge has been reading your mail, Harry. There's no other explanation," Hermione said. The three of them currently sitting in an overcrowded classroom during break due to the heavy rain outside.

"You think Umbridge attacked Hedwig?" he asked, indignantly.

"I'm certain of it. How else would she have known about Siri– Snuffles?"

"I--"

"Er . . . Harry?"

He couldn't help it. It was like that uncontrollable anger he felt often. At the sight of him there was an undeniable stinging in his chest.

"Hi Neville," he replied.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione for a second. Communicating a nonverbal excuse, before following Neville to a spot feet away.

"I just wanted to talk about yesterday. About what happened in the common room," he said.

"Look, Neville, I know you're sorry--"

"I'm not sorry," he interrupted, taking Harry by surprise. "I meant what I said. Every word. I-I just wanted to know if I'm still welcomed in the meetings. I hope that after yesterday, you haven't changed your mind about letting me join."

"Oh." Harry did not see that coming. So much so that it left him tailspinning for a moment. "Uh, yeah. O-of course you're still welcomed."

"Really? Thanks Harry," he smiled. "I-I was worried there for a second, but if you say its all right. Well, that's just . . . that's just great. I'll see you later then."

Harry stood there for a moment, watching as he exited the room. Noticing that there was something . . . different about Neville.

"What was that all about?" Ron asked him, after he unknowingly walked back to them and resumed his seat.

"Huh? Oh, it was nothing. 'S not important."

Ron and Hermione shared a look but let it go. They were getting used to Harry's 'nothing''s by now.

"So . . . can you actually believe we got Quidditch back?" Ron asked, grasping for a new subject. Which seemed to have worked, because Harry's face lit up as he delved into the new topic with renewed passion.

* * *

Classes for the day were finally over. The rain however, still poured down outside the dry castle. Buffy listening to thick drops hitting the windows in the library as she sat in her usual little corner. Books strewed over the table. Doing her homework and studying for OWL's.

The day wasn't as horrible as she originally thought it would be. Sure there were the glares and snubs, but that was cake by now. Then the little thing during charms where she had gotten the 'Silencio!' on her bird to work on her third try. Earning praise from Flitwick, and groans and even more scowls from everyone else. But all in all, it wasn't too bad.

"Hi, Buffy."

The quill stopped scratching mid-word, as Buffy looked up. Surprised at finding Ginny and a girl she couldn't remember the name of, standing on the other side of the table.

"Hey, Ginny."

"Do you mind if we join you?" she smiled.

"Uh . . . " Buffy quickly glanced over the room, as much as she could from her spot, and realized that of what she could see, most of the tables were full. "Yeah. Sure."

Putting down her quill, Buffy stacked her books and gathered her stray parchments. Setting them neatly aside.

"This is Luna Lovegood," Ginny introduced, as both girls sat down. "Luna this is Buffy Summers."

"Hi," Buffy smiled in good manner.

"You're the one everyone's talking about," Luna's airy voice said.

Buffy turned to Ginny in questioning, but the redhead only smiled as though this was very normal behavior for the blonde.

"Er . . . okay," Buffy responded.

"They think you were the one who told Professor Umbridge about the you know what. But I don't think that's true."

"Why's that?" Buffy asked curiously.

"Because Ginny told me you didn't, and I believe her."

Switching her hazel green eyes over to the redhead, Buffy looked a little more than surprised. "Really?" she asked her, and the girl nodded. "Why?"

Ginny waited for realization to dawn on Buffy, but the blonde really had no idea. As a matter of fact, Ginny had waited since the beginning of the school year for Buffy to say something to her. To give any kind of notice of what had happened, but it never came. And Ginny began to wonder if she really didn't remember. Which felt a little disappointing, because she never forgot. It's not exactly the kind of thing a person could forget so easily after all.

"Don't have a reason not to believe you," she shrugged off.

There was something she was holding back. Buffy could hear it in her voice and see it in her eyes. But Ginny had held those qualities ever since Buffy had returned. There was something she was supposed to remember. That was the look Ginny was giving her. It was the same one her mother gave her whenever she forgot to take out the trash. But she doubted that was the reason behind this one.

"So . . . what are you guys doing here?" Buffy asked, turning the conversation another way as she tried to wrack her memory.

"Well I came in here to do some research on my Potion's essay and I bumped into Luna. Saw you here, and decided to say hi," Ginny smiled.

"Clean. Clear cut. Totally believable," Buffy nodded. Making Ginny grin even wider in amusement.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I'm trying to see how much information I can store before my head pops in a comical fashion."

"OWL's?"

"Oh yeah."

Reaching over, Ginny pulled a book from one of her two piles. "Vampires? Wasn't this covered during first year?"

"Yeah, it was, but seeing as we're gonna be tested on just about everything, I decided to brush up on--"

"Vampires are very interesting creatures," Luna interrupted gently. "Not like a Crumple-Horned Snorkack, mind you, but they are interesting. We have a vampire in our family."

"You do?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, but my dad doesn't really know all that much about her. She was from my mum's side of the family."

"So it's a her?" Buffy questioned, her interest here a little more personal than curious.

"Her name was Drusilla I believe."

"Dru-Drusilla?" Buffy choked out.

"You've heard of her?" Luna asked. Noting the shocked look on her face. One that was gaining questioning attention from Ginny.

"Yeah," she replied quickly and high-pitched, but cleared her throat to control her voice. "Yeah, she was in one of the books I was reading. She was quite famous."

"I've never heard of her," Ginny said unbelieving. Wondering what had caused Buffy's strange reaction.

"Depends on where you look."

Luckily for her, Buffy did actually come across a reference to Drusilla. Something she bypassed because a mention of Drusilla would lead to a mention of Angel, and that really wasn't looking good for her comfort level.

Pulling out a book from her pile she scanned through the weathered pages.

"Here," she said. Handing the opened tome over to the two girls.

"Drusilla, sired in 1860. She was known as a seer even before she became a vampire. It says here she was tortured into insanity by . . . Angelus. A master vampire who eventually turned her. He murdered her family and friends, and devised all forms of mental torment on her," Ginny abridged. "Sounds horrible. And you say you're related to her?"

"Yes, but we don't talk about it much. Dad says it was a very dark time in my mum's family, and those who survived never liked to talk about it again," Luna answered offhandedly.

As Buffy listened to her explanation, she began to notice some similarities between Luna and Drusilla. The same light airy voice, and childlike quality. The large eyes with their permanent dreamy look. But where Luna was light with her dirty blonde hair and grey protuberant eyes, Drusilla was dark with the eyes and hair to match. Either way it was starting to be creepy.

"This Angelus sounds like a real prince. I would hate to cross him in a dark alley," Ginny shuddered.

"He's a regular Sweeney Todd," Buffy mumbled. Doing her best to keep the memory of those four months where Angelus had been free, out of her mind.

"Who's that?"

"It's a muggle reference," she replied.

Ginny's eyebrows scrunched together at that. What did Buffy know about muggles? From what she remembered, Buffy had never shown any interest. As a matter of a fact, she used to steer clear of anything related to muggles.

"You're studying Magical Creatures. I can help you with that if you like," Luna volunteered. Noticing the open book next to Buffy. "I can even tell you about some of the creatures not listed in the books as well. Like Nargles, and Heliopaths."

With a confused look, Buffy turned to Ginny who again had that knowing smile on her face. It seems that Luna Lovegood was a lot stranger than she thought, and Buffy found it absolutely charming. Who was she to judge the strange? Look at her life.

The three of them stayed in the library until Madam Pince announced she was closing the doors, sadly. Buffy actually had a good time, a relaxing time. Ginny was a riot and Luna was fascinating and sweet. And she was disappointed when it came to an end.

"I had fun. Maybe we can hang out again some time?" Ginny asked.

Luna had gone her own way to the Ravenclaw tower some time ago, leaving the other two girls alone to head to their own tower of residence for the night.

As Ginny had gotten to know Buffy just a little bit better, she realized how much she actually liked her. She had a sharp mind that was always ready with a quick come back. She was funny and a very warm person. A surprise to Ginny to say the least, but a good one nonetheless.

"You sure about that? I don't think your brothers, or anyone else for that matter, will be to keen on the idea."

"So what? It's not like I need their permission," she confidently said.

"Look at you, Norma Rae," she grinned.

"Who's Norma Rae?"

"Never mind," Buffy shook her head. "Guess I'll have to limit my pop culture references, huh?"

"Well . . . you don't have to, unless of course you don't want me to understand what you're talking about."

"So that's a maybe."

With a wide grin on each of their faces, Buffy and Ginny walked into the Gryffindor common room and up to their dormitories. Ignoring every staring and curious face along the way.

* * *

He was walking down the windowless corridor again. His footsteps the only sound in the heavy silence. The large door stood heavy at the end. It's mysterious secrets making his blood pump with excitement. He was getting closer. He stretched out his hand, ready to push through . . .

"Harry Potter, sir!"

And that's when he woke up.

Harry jumped from the sudden awakened state of his mind. His bleary eyes looking around the soft lighted common room.

"Who's there?" he croaked out.

"Dobby has your owl, sir."

The squeaky voice came from beside the table, and Harry found Dobby standing there with Hedwig resting atop the house-elf's head.

"Dobby volunteered to return Harry Potter's owl to him. Professor Grubbly-Plank says she is well now, sir."

Hedwig flew toward Harry. Landing comfortably on the arm chair, he was currently sitting on. Hooting happily as he stroked her feathers.

"Thanks, Dobby," he smiled, causing the house-elf to get teary in happiness.

"It was Dobby's pleasure, Harry Potter," he said adoringly.

Harry sat back in his chair. A small, thoughtful scowl on his lips.

"Harry Potter does not look happy. Is there something Dobby can do? Dobby wishes he could help Harry Potter, for Harry Potter set Dobby free, and Dobby is much, much happier now."

"Thanks Dobby but . . . " Harry paused when he realized that Dobby probably knew everything about this castle. House-elves were allowed to come and go as they please, which gave them privily to its many secrets. "Actually there is something you can do for me."

"Name it, Harry Potter, sir," Dobby beamed at the idea of helping.

"I need to find a place where twenty-eight people can practice Defense Against the Dark Arts without being discovered by any of the staff. Especially Professor Umbridge," he requested, cringing in disgust on the last word.

The house-elf absolutely lit up in excitement. His ears wiggling cheerily as he clapped his hands together. "Dobby knows the perfect place, sir!"

* * *

Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I loooove them! Helps me to keep the inspiration wheel turning :)


	21. Chapter 21

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

The Room of Requirement, also known as the Come and Go Room, was located on the seventh floor opposite the wall of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls. It is unknown of what it looks like in its original state, seeing as the room only appears when a person is in real need of it. And is always equipped for the seekers needs. The only way to access this room is to walk in front of the empty wall three times, concentrating fiercely on what they might need. To one person it may appear as a broom closet, another a room filled with chamber pots, or it may be used as a direct exit out of the castle. However, on this particular night it was used as a meeting for the Defense Against the Dark Arts group. Fully equipped with shelves and shelves of books, for which Hermione drooled, and an array of instruments like a Sneakoscopes and Secrecy Sensors, and all sorts of goodies littered the room.

Harry had spread the news the very next day after Dobby had informed him of the perfect place for the Defense meeting. He informed all twenty-five members of the time, eight o'clock and the exact directions of how to get to the Room of Requirements.

Now, they were all standing around, waiting for Harry to instruct them. Except for Hermione who had her hand in the air.

"What is it Hermione?" Harry asked.

"I think we ought to have a name. It would promote a feeling of unity and team spirit, don't you think?"

"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" Angelina asked hopefully.

"Or the Ministry of Magic are Morons Group?" Fred suggested.

"I was thinking," Hermione began, shooting a disapproving frown at Fred. "More of a name that didn't tell everyone of what we were up to. Something we can safely refer to outside of the meetings."

"The Defense Association," Cho pitched in. "The D.A. for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about."

"The D.A.'s good," Ginny said thoughtfully. "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army, because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?"

"All in favor of the D.A.?" Hermione questioned, and after counting the raised hands, "that's majority. Motion passed!"

Jotting down Dumbledore's Army onto the parchment the members had signed at the Hog's Head, she rose up from her seat and stuck it to a wall.

"Right," Harry said, after Hermione resumed her seat. "Shall we start practicing then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do is Expelliarmus, you know, the Disarming Charm. I know its pretty basic but I've found it to be useful--"

"Oh, please. I don't think Expelliarmus is going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?" Zacharias Smith grumbled.

"I've used it against him, and it saved my life. But if you think it's beneath you, you can leave," Harry told him, but Zacharias didn't move, nor did anybody else.

"Okay, I reckon we all split into pairs, and get started," he instructed.

As he watched his orders being carried out, it made him feel strange. He told them what to do, and they actually did it. He was going to have to get used to that.

The pairs were teaming up, and Harry noticed that Neville was predictably left partner-less. Oh, but if Buffy were here there was no doubt who his partner would be. They'd probably be off in a corner laughing and joking around. Being all chummy and secretive with their conversations. Getting close and–wait. What was he doing? No, he had to be the bigger man here. Pretend like the thought of Neville being struck down by lightning was a bad thing. Harry paused on that. He really needed to sort out his issues.

"You can practice with me," Harry told him. Twinging his insides with guilt when he saw Neville's smile of relief. "All right, on the count of three. One, two, three!"

Expelliarmus! Was shouted all over the room. Then it was all a mess. Books flew off shelves, wands soared through the air. This was going to be a little harder than he thought.

"Listen, Neville, can you take turns practicing with Hermione and Ron for a couple of minutes, so I can walk around and see how the rest are doing?" Harry asked.

Nodding in understanding, Neville quickly moved toward the duo. As Harry walked toward the center of the room, he glanced around him. And that's when he noticed something very odd was happening to Zacharias Smith. Every time he opened his mouth to disarm Anthony Goldstein, his own wand would fly out of his hand, before he spoke a word. But that mystery was quickly solved when Harry noticed Fred and George standing several feet away from Zacharias, taking their turns pointing their wands at his back.

"Sorry Harry," George said, when he noticed they had been caught. "Couldn't resist."

If it weren't for that fact that he was trying to set an example, Harry probably would've joined them.

Walking around the room he observed the rest of the pairs. Noting their progress, and helping them out whenever he could. He passed by Cho and her friend Marietta, and blushed when Cho stated he made her nervous. And the fluttering in his stomach returned at her attention, but only slightly.

Time soon passed, and before they realized it, it was past nine o'clock. Past curfew. And he immediately stopped everyone mid-spell.

"Well, that was pretty good," he said, once he gained their attention. "But we've overrun, we'd better leave it here. Same time, same place next week?"

"Sooner!" Dean Thomas exclaimed eagerly, and by the looks of it, everyone else agreed.

"Quidditch season's about to start, we need time to practice too," Angelina voiced.

"Let's say next Wednesday, then," Harry suggested. "We can decide on additional meetings then."

Carefully, and swiftly, the group left in threes and fours. Harry watching their small dots on the Marauder's Map he cleverly thought to bring with him. Waiting until they arrived safely to their dormitories before letting the next group out.

"That was really, really great Harry," Hermione congratulated when it was just the three of them left in the room.

"It really was, mate," Ron agreed enthusiastically.

"Thanks," he grinned from ear to ear.

The three of them were the last ones to make it into the tower. Ron and Harry going up their way toward the boy's dormitory, and Hermione going to the girls. As she reached the door, Hermione suddenly remembered that not all the girls had been in the meeting tonight. Immediately stopping her from barging into the room noisily.

"Its okay, she's asleep," Lavender whispered to her.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked warily, looking toward Buffy's drape covered bed as she softly closed the door behind her.

"Positive. When we came in Parvati accidentally dropped her school bag on the floor, and she didn't even stir . . . we think."

Not fully convinced Hermione tiptoed to her bed. "I'd rather not take the risk. So nothing about the D.A. when she's around, all right?"

"Okay," Lavender and Parvati agreed.

They changed and readied for bed in record time. All three girls, snuggled quietly into their pillows. Secret smiles on their lips as they thought about the night's events. Proud of what they had accomplished, and tired from the day and practice of learning defense.

And in a dark forest not too far away one girl was learning the strenuous art of defense herself . . .

Buffy flipped back to her feet, rushing into the vampire with a swift kick to its head. The vampire easily dodged the attack and knocked her to the side with a hard kick of his own. Stupid vamp. Regaining her balance, she punched him mid chest and went into a roundhouse.

"See, I can play too," she grinned, when the vampire fell to the ground.

Jumping to his feet, he growled angrily and with a right hook he had Buffy stumbling again. And not wasting the opportunity, he grabbed her by the throat and shoved her roughly against a tree. Lifting her up so her legs were left dangling off the ground.

"Wha' 're you gonna do now lil' girl?" he taunted.

"I got two words for you. Breath. Mint," she choked out, as she clawed at the vampire's hand.

The vampire growled one more time, his eyes firmly fixated on Buffy's neck.

Okay, Buffy, you can do this. Just do what Remus wrote in the book. Concentrate on the spell. On what you want it do. Are those spots? Concentrate Buffy, think of its effects. Then nonverbally, just you know–

"Sod it," she choked out.

Lifting up her wand, she pointed at her attacker. "Confringo!"

The oxygen rushed into her lungs, burning her throat and nose, as she fell to the ground.

"Ew, gross, vampire pieces," she whined.

Bits of blood and entrails littered the grass, and a few disgusting ones landed in her hair. But in the next second every last part turned to dust.

"So much better," she said in relief as she rose up off the ground dusting her clothes. "Nightmares for days, but better."

Doing another sweep of the forest, and finding nothing, Buffy walked up toward the castle. Okay Buff this is where watching those Batman movies come in handy.

Slipping through the doors, she quietly made her way up. Ducking into shadows and corners. Filch had been stepping up his game. He and his stupid cat nearly caught her the last two times. Leaving her to come up with different routes on the spot. Not so easy to do in a castle with a mind of its own. Keeping her ears trained, she listened for footsteps and paw-steps. Her eyes open for any glimpse of light.

Finally she reached the portrait, and with an innocent look on her face she cleared her throat. The Fat Lady pried one eye open, and without a word let her through. It was against the rules, unsafe for the students, disregard of school etiquette, blah, blah, blah. She was tired, it was nearing eleven p.m., and the Fat Lady was used to Buffy Summers coming and going in the late hours by now to not be bothered by rules.

The portrait closed silently behind her and once inside the common room, Buffy pulled off her shoes and made her way up the stairs. Using every stealth muscle she had, she slipped quietly into her room and into her bed. Sighing in relief at yet another catch-free day, and wincing at the current aches in her body. Small price to pay for sticking it to the man, or wo-man in this case. And shifting into a comfortable zone, Buffy finally fell into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

"Good morning," Ginny said cheerfully as she took a seat beside Buffy in the Great Hall.

"It's too early to be cheery," Buffy replied sipping on her coffee.

"Not a morning person, are you?"

"I'm a morning person," she said. "If morning starts around lunch time."

Ginny grinned as she began to fill her plate. Adding another piece to the Buffy puzzle.

"Morning," Neville greeted.

"Not you too," Buffy grumbled lowering her head to the table. Her body still a little sore from last night. Hence the crabby.

"What?" he asked, sitting himself across the table from her. Buffy looked up at him and he immediately got the message. "You haven't finished your coffee have you?"

"Nope," Ginny responded leaning over to Buffy's cup. "Still there."

Neville shook his head smiling, and began to accumulate his own breakfast for the day.

"Good morning," Susie greeted as she took her seat at the table.

"Ugh!" Buffy groaned sinking her head to the wood again.

"Coffee?" Susie asked, indicating to the grouchy blonde.

"Not finished," Neville answered her.

"You know for people who know about my daily need for caffeine you sure like to pick your moments," Buffy said, raising her head once again.

"Course we do. How else are we gonna take the mickey out of you," Susie grinned cheerfully, causing the other two to do the same. Even Buffy cracked a smile at that one.

They were laughing, smiling, enjoying a very pleasant morning, and ignoring every stare they were receiving. That small handful that was left of the We Hate Buffy club, were looking at the quartet curiously. Mostly at Ginny and Neville, trying to figure what it was exactly that they saw in the blonde, and Susie had been hanging around her since the beginning of term, so there really weren't any questions there. And as the group let out another small round of deep honest laughter, they couldn't help but notice that the whole thing was just so . . . surreal.

Buffy was used to the lookie loos, but was worried that all the attention they were getting would drive away Ginny and her friendship. Something Buffy had no intention of losing. Neville was used to the stares by now, so he really wasn't a worry. Susie, was well Susie, the girl could honestly care less. So that only left Ginny, but as she noticed the redhead continue in her smiley conversation with Neville and made no indication of taking note of all the eyes, Buffy realized she had nothing to worry about.

"How'd you get that?" Ginny asked suddenly in surprise.

Using her line of vision as a guide, Buffy looked down toward her now bare arm. She had forgotten all about it, if she had remembered there was no way she would've pulled her sleeves up.

"It's nothing, just a bruise." From one of the three vampires she had encountered last night.

"It looks painful," Susie winced, noticing the deep blue and purple coloring.

"Just another symptom of the Clumsy Disease. Last week I hit my head on the doorway, this week I stubbed my toe on a trunk, and today I banged my arm against a bed pole. I'm a regular old Ginger Rogers," she sarcastically dripped as she studied her current injury.

"And I thought Neville was bad," Ginny grinned, choosing to ignore the Ginger Rogers remark, knowing she had no idea who that was.

"Hey!" Neville exclaimed.

"Oh sorry Neville forgot you were here," she teased him.

Picking a grape from his plate, he tossed it over to the redhead, who impressively caught it in her mouth.

Buffy hated lying, especially when trust was a very delicate balance in new friendships, but what choice did she have. It would be easier if they believed her to be a klutz than to know the real truth of her present and forthcoming cuts and bruises.

The bell rang and the Hall was filled with hustle and bustle. Susie wished them all a good day before she moved on with her friends to her first class. Leaving Ginny, Buffy and Neville to walk toward the exit together, and then be quickly joined by Luna Lovegood.

"Hello," her soft voice greeted.

"Hey Luna," the three of them replied in unison.

"Today's a beautiful day isn't it? I suspect the Blibbering Humdinger is really enjoying it. They're really fond of the sun, did you know that?"

"Oh, well . . . " Buffy replied politely. "That's, um, that's great. Good for, you know . . . it."

Luna smiled happily and dreamily continued to walk with them. Ginny, Neville and Buffy shared amused looks, but didn't say a word.

A third year Ravenclaw by the name of Emily, interceded their path and held out a folded piece of parchment. "Er . . . Buffy, this is for you. Professor Dumbledore asked me to give it to you."

"Okay . . . thanks," Buffy replied warily, taking the note in her hands.

The little group around her watched as Emily left and then turned their attention to Buffy, who was just folding the note back up again.

"All this trouble just to be sent to the Principal's office, you'd think he'd just ask me himself," she muttered. "I'll catch you guys later."

They'd be lying if they said they weren't curious, but Buffy was already heading up the stairway and their chance was gone. Shrugging it off the trio moved back to their previous destinations and headed to their classes.

Buffy just reached the oak door when it immediately swung open, making it obvious that Dumbledore was already inside waiting for her.

"Good morning, Headmaster," Buffy greeted, taking the seat offered.

"Good morning Ms. Summers," Dumbledore replied warmly. "How has your day been so far?"

"Well considering it's only nine a.m. I'm lacking complaints, but I still got twelve hours to go before I call it a day. So you never know, I could start a riot around lunch time."

"Wonderful, but I would appreciate a warning before you go through with your plans."

"Planning to secure the castle?"

"No, fleeing was actually my plan of action," he smiled.

"Then I'll let you know," Buffy nodded.

The twinkle in his aging blue eyes disappeared, and he clasped his hands over his desk. Uh oh, that was not a happy look, but not an angry one either, so that was a . . . a what exactly?

"Professor Umbridge has informed me that she has been keeping a closer eye on you, and that I should feel the need to do the same." So it was an irritated look. "She has also pointed out to me that our caretaker has seen you, or thought to have seen you, leaving the castle on more than one occasion. Personally I don't believe a word of it, but I feel I must warn you that her reports will be sent to Mr. Fudge," he informed her seriously. "Now Ms. Summers, although I don't believe a single word of her accusations I must feel the need to warn you about leaving and entering the castle in the hours past curfew. I have already spoken to the Fat Lady about the situation, and she has given me her word on keeping her promise. And all that's left is asking you to uphold your part in accepting the rules."

That was . . . confusing, but Buffy managed pick out the key phrases. All in all, the only thing he was trying to tell her, was to just be careful.

"Yes, Headmaster. I'll continue with accepting the rules," Buffy replied. She'll accept them, oh she won't follow them, but she'll accept them. And when she saw that twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes, she realized that, that was his intention all along.

"Very good. Glad we have cleared the situation. Now . . . why don't you enjoy the rest of your day. And remember if there's anything you need, feel free to bother someone else with them," he winked.

"Didn't you hear? Professor Snape and I have become the best of friends."

"Ah, so that's why I've seen him humming and twirling about the halls," he said. His voice thoughtful and mocking.

"Have a nice day Professor," Buffy grinned and headed toward the door. "Oh and by the way, those butterflies I told you about, seems like they've been having some activity lately. I saw them flying around last night. And I get the feeling it won't be the last time either."

"No, I suspect it won't. I'll keep my eye out just in case I happen by them."

Buffy gave a curt nod, and a wave later she was out the door and heading toward the library. Seeing as it was well past nine, too late for class, drat the luck.

* * *

There was yelling. Lots and lots of yelling. And then there was quiet. Very, odd quiet.Remus had once again tried to patch things up between Sirius and Joyce, it had been over a month and he was at the end of his rope. Sirius tugged him one way, while Joyce had him at the other. So, he dragged her one more time to Grimmauld Place and actually locked them in the room the Order had been using for meetings. They threatened to kill him, put a silver bullet through his heart, and many other heart felt sentiments but he refused to open the door. Well, finally, they stopped yelling at him, but then went into yelling at each other. He went into the next room and waited for the screams to turn into low murmurs, but what he didn't expect was complete and utter quiet. Straining his ears as far as his werewolf hearing would let him, he searched for sound, but . . . nothing!

Resigning to his wondering, Remus walked toward the room containing fire and ice, and after unlocking the door, he pried it open. His grayish blue eyes widened in surprise, and after regaining his senses, his lips found themselves in an amused smirk.

"Well its about bloody time," he remarked, but it had definitely fallen on deaf ears.

Realizing that his presence in the room was not needed or wanted, by the looks of it, he saw himself out. Shutting the door on Joyce and Sirius who were currently devouring each other like there was no tomorrow.

* * *

Note: Thank you! For the reviews, they make my hot, sticky summer day. :)


	22. Chapter 22

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

For the past few days Buffy had been trying to figure out a pattern. But as luck would have it, there wasn't one. On any given random day, any random time, the same people would leave the Gryffindor tower. Either in sets of twos or threes, never more than three, to wherever it was they were meeting. Something Buffy had also yet to figure out.

Then there was that other thing. The very funny thing she noticed when Neville had accidentally dropped a Galleon on the floor. He told her she didn't have to pick it up, rather panicky actually, but she was already straightening up with the golden piece in her hand. A suspiciously hot golden piece that Neville immediately snatched out of her grasp and shoved into his pocket. It was definitely weird, but she ignored it . . . for now. But then on a particularly rainy day while she studied in the library one lonely afternoon, she noticed something else very interesting

Her hand had just barely been removed from the book she had placed back on the lowest shelf when she heard soft footsteps.

"Is there anyone around?" a female voice whispered.

Huddling closer to the ground and against the darkened wall, Buffy sat still and listened intently.

"No, it's clear," another female voice answered.

"Good, I think it changed again."

Buffy peered up from the nearest shelf, and recognized the two girls on the other side of the stacks. Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott, fifth year Hufflepuffs who had attended the meeting at the Hog's Head which meant they were in the D.A., or whatever it was they were calling it. They were close together and looking at something shiny in Susan's hand. A Galleon. Isn't that . . . interesting.

"Where's yours?" Susan asked.

"I left it in my bag," Hannah answered unsurely. "I think."

"Hannah!" Susan whispered harshly.

"I know, I know. I have it somewhere. I do. I just don't know where that is at the moment," she replied hurriedly. "I've just been so frantic with OWL's lately."

Susan gave a reprimanding sigh and placed her fisted hands at her sides. "Just don't tell Hermione. She'll chew your head off. But make sure you find it. I don't think she'll make you another one."

"All right, all right. I will. I promise," Hannah answered as she and Susan left just as quietly as they had come.

Buffy rose to her feet, taking in all the information she had just snooped in on. So, that's how they were communicating their dates and times. It seemed so familiar but she couldn't seem to place it. Hermione must've jinxed the coins to change every time a new date and hour was scheduled for the next meeting. That was very clever, very Hermione, and now all Buffy had to do was get her hands on one.

Another night, another daring escape. As Buffy sneaked through the darkened corridors, she was still busting her brain on trying to figure out how to get her hands on one of those special Galleons. Which meant that her mind was not entirely focused on exiting the castle, which was not exactly the brightest thing to do. Passing through another empty hallway Buffy was so deep into her thoughts that she nearly missed the light casting shadows around the corner. One that was glowing brighter by the second, meaning that whoever was coming just around the bend was about to catch her roaming around past curfew. Which was most likely Filch, who would most likely turn her in to Umbridge, and we all know how that would turn out. Swiftly and quietly she began to move backwards, keeping her eyes forward and trying to find a quick escape before–

A hand wrapped around her mouth and the next thing Buffy knew, she was being pulled into an empty classroom. The shock of the situation caused her reflexes to hesitate, but once she was held against a wall with the hand still on her mouth, her mind sprang to life and she began to raise her wand. And then Buffy recognized his face.

He placed a quick finger over his mouth indicating for her to be quiet, making her relax . . . but only a little. They stayed frozen in that position until they heard the footsteps pass. Buffy staring at his handsome face as he turned his head to the side to hear the steps clearer. After what seemed like hours, he finally turned back to her. His bright silver eyes looking into her hazel green ones as he slowly lowered his hand. His vision raking in every detail of her face.

This was the closest Draco had been to her in almost three years, and it was playing havoc with his emotions. He wanted to hold her, to yell at her, scream at her. To make her laugh, see her smile. Make her angry, irritated, annoyed! To just . . . --but he didn't do any of those things. Instead he walked away, deeper into the room, and forced himself to face away from her.

Buffy stepped away from the wall, but didn't follow him. His head was slumped forward, and his shoulders were drooped. When was the last time they were in the same room together that didn't involve a lesson or a meal. It all seemed like ages ago when they would hang out in the common room as Draco complained about his father and Buffy listened patiently until it was her turn to do the same. As they complained about classes and assignments and everything else. Buffy only half listening as Draco ranted on about Harry Potter again, and then telling him to stop being such a prat and that he needed to find himself a new obsession. Causing Draco to huff and puff and Buffy to watch him amused and unapologetic of anything she had said. But that was then, way then.

She didn't know how to behave now. Which was a very strange feeling to have around someone who used to be her best friend. It had been said before, Buffy knew Draco better than anybody and that's why she waited. She wrung her hands and then pushed them to her sides. Glanced around the room just to have something to do. Draco was not someone to be pushed in situations like this. He needed time, but it was becoming clear that he had nothing to say. And that's all she needed to know. Without saying a word Buffy walked over to the door and without a look back pried it open.

"I missed you," Draco's thick voice carried through the empty room.

Buffy took a sharp intake of breath at the sound of his voice. A heavy feeling settling in her chest. Her heart beating so wildly she was sure he could hear it. As she blinked her misty eyes she took a deep, shaky breath, and slowly pressed the door back in place.

He wasn't sure why he said it. Maybe it was the spinning in his mind, or the stress of studying for exams. Maybe it was knowing she was so close, or maybe it was the sound of the door opening that caused him to panic and force something out. Whatever it was, it was too late to figure out now, because the words couldn't seem to stop.

"I waited . . . and waited. For a note . . . a letter, a word . . . anything, but you just . . . " Draco shoved his hands into his pockets tiredly and turned around. "You didn't even say goodbye."

Part of him was glad that she wasn't facing him. That she couldn't see his red eyes and saddened face. It would be easier if she would just go, and leave it that. To go on ignoring her, and pretend that he was better off. But it would be even harder to see her walk out the door and not do anything to stop it. So he waited, begging for her to say something.

"I couldn't," her low voice replied. "I couldn't look at you and say . . . " Buffy closed her eyes briefly as she worked up her courage, and slowly turned to him. "It would've been too hard. So I just . . . I-I couldn't."

Draco flitted his eyes to the ground. She couldn't say goodbye, and in a way he thanked her for that. If she had, he knew he wouldn't 've been able to handle it. He would've lashed out on instinct. Yelled at her as cruelly as the words would've made him feel. But she also left without a single word, and that was even more cruel than a goodbye. Worse thing was, he had to find out about it from Pansy. Her mouth dipped in a frown but her eyes were bright with joy as she told him. He ignored everyone for the rest of the day after that.

"Why did you leave?"

Draco, like everyone else, didn't know the entire story of what had occurred second year. Buffy had been brought up from the Chamber of Secrets weak and disoriented. She spent a week in the infirmary and then she was gone. He visited her frequently while she was there. Brought her so many chocolate frogs and lollipops that she smiled until her cheeks hurt. He asked her once about what had happened down there, but she immediately put down her candy and looked away from him. He never asked her about it again after that.

The last time he saw her was the day before she left. She didn't say anything about it, she didn't even look upset, but her eyes were more gray than green and he knew something was off. He figured it was because of what had happened before, so he kept quiet. But he soon realized how wrong he was.

"I didn't want to . . . I mean _really_ didn't want to. But my mom . . . she kinda freaked after the whole Chambers thing. She wanted to get me as far away from here as possible. She thought it would help. I didn't talk to her for three weeks," she answered with a slight smirk.

He didn't want to, but he couldn't help the small smile from forming at the reminder of Buffy's stubbornness. Then realizing what he was doing, he changed back to the gloom again. But Buffy didn't miss it and that tiny little slip gave her hope.

"You could've written," he reminded her.

"I wanted to," she said quickly. "Every day . . . but I just didn't know what to say. What to write that would make you hate me any less. Dear Draco sorry I didn't tell you I was leaving. That I chickened out. That my mom dragged me halfway around the world. That I didn't know if I was ever coming back. If I would ever see you again."

"It would've been better than nothing," he interrupted. "It would've been better than just waiting around like an idiot to hear a single word from you. Wondering if I would ever see your stupid owl flying through a window."

"Hey if I remember correctly owls are smart enough to find someone no matter where they are. You could've written too you know."

"I wasn't the one who left!"

His voice echoed slightly and he calmed himself down. Now was not exactly the best time to be caught by a member of the staff.

Buffy gave a deep breath and let her own turmoil of emotions come to a lull. "I know, and I'm sorry. I really am," Buffy said sincerely. "But in case you haven't caught on yet, it wasn't exactly my idea to go. I begged my mom to change her mind, but she just wouldn't listen. Everything was just so unfair. Did you think I wanted to leave? To be taken away from my friends and everything I've ever known. To move halfway around the world where I didn't know anybody, and start my life over. Meet new people, become a whole new person. To do all of it alone."

Buffy paused as all the emotions of the past came forward. The loneliness she felt, much like the one she felt when she returned to Hogwarts, resurfacing. The fear, the strength she had to pull to make it through the days. The act for her mom, and all the new 'friends' she had made in L.A., draining her. Wishing every night she could go back.

"But I did miss you," she told him, and Draco felt a warmth settling in the middle of his chest. "So much. I mean, who else knows me like you do? Who else knows how I really I got that scar on my knee from--"

"From when you chased the peacock around the grounds because it took your wand, and you were too stubborn to let my mum look at it," he grinned. "You said it would heal on its own."

"Which it did by the way," she said pointedly.

"Yeah, and now you have a permanent scar to prove it."

They were left smiling at the memory, and all the heavy tension in the room seemed to slowly leak away.

"I'm still angry at you," Draco told her as he frowned, unconvincingly by the way.

"I know," she humored him.

"And I will be. For a very, very long time," he continued.

"I know."

Draco pulled his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms, as he casually leaned on a nearby desk. A small smile on his face.

"You cut your hair."

"Yes, I did," she answered running a hand through her shoulder length locks.

"You said you would never cut your hair," he reminded her.

"Yeah, well, what can I say. A lot of things have changed."

"I've noticed," he replied sadly.

An air of remorse and nostalgia filled the room, almost suffocating them. Buffy walked over to a nearby desk and sat down. A minute later Draco joined her. Both of them silent as a million thoughts ran through their heads. A million and one memories replaying like a photo album.

"Its not gonna be the same is it?" he asked.

"'Fraid not," she answered sadly. "To begin with we're not even in the same house anymore. And we're technically supposed to hate each other now."

Draco gave a heavy sigh and clasped his hands together. "So that's it then," he said thickly.

"What? Why?" Buffy asked surprised, as she looked at him.

"Well . . . because of everything you just--"

"Draco when was the last time we cared about anything anybody said? Or thought?"

"That's true," he nodded. "But it's different now."

"Yes, it is, but I know I don't wanna lose you," she admitted. Her vulnerability completely on the line.

"Neither do I," he replied, unaware Buffy had released a breath of relief. "So where does that leave us?"

"It leaves us . . . does it really matter now?"

"No," he smirked. "I guess it doesn't."

"We'll figure something out. We always do," she promised.

He nodded and moved his eyes to the top of the desk. His finger tapping on the wood in thought.

"Draco?" she asked suddenly. "What the hell were you doing out past curfew?"

It suddenly dawned on her that, even as a prefect, it was still too late for him to be roaming the halls. Not that she wasn't thankful for it tonight.

"Looking for you," he side-smiled.

"W-what?" she asked, fearful of what that smile implicated. There's no way he could know. Unless . . . no there's no way he could know. Even 'he' didn't know back then, and she doubted he even understood it now.

"Well it seems _someone_ has been roaming around the castle past curfew and Professor Umbridge hasn't had any luck catching them. And she thought--"

"And since she no doubt knows your father, she thought you would be the perfect man for the job," she finished off. "Wow, didn't realize I was such a nuisance."

"Yes you did."

"All right I did, but that's what's fun about it," she grinned.

"You'd better be careful, Buffy," he told her seriously. He didn't really care how many students got marked up by Umbridge, but Buffy was definitely not on that list.

"Does that mean you're not gonna turn me in?"

"If I didn't turn you in the first two years, what makes you think I'm gonna do it now?"

Buffy had a nasty habit of walking around the castle late at night since their first year. For no other reason than to test her limit. Draco had accompanied her on a few occasions. It wasn't really as exciting as he thought it would be, and that's why it was rare when he did. Buffy on the other hand, enjoyed it to no end. Feeling like the only one in the massive stone building gave her a thrill, that and giving Filch the runaround wasn't too bad either.

"Well, I figured that shiny new prefect badge might've gone to your head," she teased.

"You know me too well," he smiled.

"Of course. Who else will?" she said, then turned her face forward, and soon felt Draco's curious eyes on her.

"What?"

"You've changed," he said flatly. It was the little things he noticed. The ones that weren't obvious to the eye. It wasn't physical either, well not entirely. Buffy was just different.

"You haven't."

"Well I'm a Malfoy."

"So that means you're destined to be an irritating git for the rest of your life. How lucky for you," she rolled her eyes.

Draco grinned like a madman. Guess she hadn't changed so much after all.

"Welcome back, Summers."

* * *

Note: I'm cringing at this very moment! As you can tell, it took my a while to write this chapter. Hope I haven't disappointed anyone out there. This was definitely one of the hardest to write. So I'm crossing my fingers as I wait, hopeful, for your reviews. And thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far!


	23. Chapter 23

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

It was the first Quidditch match of the year and the excitement was everywhere. And all of the nervousness in existence was currently residing inside Ronald Weasley, as he dreaded every second before the match.

"I must've been mental to do this," he croaked out as he sat for breakfast, and for the first time in his life, he was definitely not hungry.

"You're just nervous. You're going to be fine," Harry tried to console him.

"I'm rubbish. I can't play to save my life. What was I thinking?"

"Get a grip. You'll do great."

Hermione and Ginny came in and took a seat in front of the boys. Decorated in scarlet and gold, concerned looks and all.

"How are you feeling?" Ginny asked Ron.

"He's just nervous," Harry answered, when it looked like Ron wasn't going to be able to.

"Well that's a good sign. I never feel you perform as well in exams if you're not a bit nervous," Hermione said confidently.

"Hello," Luna's dreamy voice interrupted them.

The quartet looked up, and their eyes widened in disbelief. Sitting on top of the Ravenclaw's head was a hat shaped like a life-sized lion's head.

"I'm supporting Gryffindor," she said, indicating to her head-ware. "Look what it does."

Tapping the hat with her wand, all those around her jumped in surprise, when the hat opened up its jaws and roared.

"It's good isn't it! I wanted to have it chewing on a serpent to represent Slytherin, you know, but there wasn't any time. Anyway . . . good luck, Ronald!" she encouraged, and then wafted her eyes down the table. "Buffy! Have you seen my hat?"

They watched as Luna moved toward the blonde. Part of them waiting for Buffy to tease it, but were taken aback when she only smiled and nodded her head happily.

"Excuse me," Ginny departed, and moved her way over to where Buffy and Neville were currently sitting.

The lion roared again, and the trio around Luna clapped and cheered. It was one of those surreal moments again.

"Where were you?" Pansy demanded. Ignoring the noise coming from the Gryffindor table where a certain hateful blonde, she wished would disappear, sat.

"I already told you. I was in my room," Draco bit out.

He had been acting weird lately. Disappearing at odd moments, and behaving coldly towards her. And Pansy didn't like it.

"You were not. I asked Theodore if you were up there, and he said you were gone even before he woke up."

Draco had in fact, spent the morning before breakfast with Buffy, in a never used third floor classroom. One of their many secret, past meetings. Not like he'd tell Pansy however.

"Daphne said she saw you leaving the common room early in the morning," she continued.

"Well than I guess I wasn't in my room," he said, his patience wearing thin.

"Draco--"

"Will you just be quiet. If I don't want you to know where I was, than it means you don't get to know," he told her coldly.

Pansy flinched back and began to pout. But it didn't work. Instead Draco continued with his breakfast and consorting with his teammates about today's match.

Nope, Pansy definitely didn't like it at all.

"When you're ready, we're going to go straight down the pitch, check out conditions and change," Angelina told Ron and Harry.

"We'll be there in a bit," Harry responded, just before she left with Alicia.

When it looked like Ron was definitely not going to eat, the Gryffindor Seeker and Keeper rose from the table, as did Hermione. Who grabbed Harry's arm urgently and pulled him aside.

"Don't let Ron see the badges the Slytherins are wearing," she whispered.

Harry gave her a questioning look, but Hermione only shook her head warningly.

"Good luck Ron," she stated, giving the boy a kiss on the cheek for luck. "And you too, Harry."

Ron's lost look didn't have anything to do with Quidditch anymore. Raising his hand he touched the spot where Hermione had kissed him, and now instead of nervous, he was definitely confused.

Ron was distracted, Harry was assured of that, and taking the opportunity he looked toward the Slytherin table as they passed it on their way out. On their robes was a crown-shaped badge with the words _Weasley Is Our King_, etched in. He gulped. This was not going to turn out well.

"Come on, we should go find some seats," Buffy said, as she rose from the table. "Luna, you wanna sit with us?"

"Thank you. That would be wonderful," she smiled.

Luna, Buffy, Neville, and Ginny walked out of the Hall and to the frosty outdoors. The ice-covered grass crunching beneath their feet.

"Where's Susie?" Ginny asked.

"She's already there. Wanted the front row seats to her first school Quidditch match," Buffy answered.

"Smart girl," Neville smiled.

The robes of Ginny, Luna and Neville billowed behind them as they neared the stadium. While Buffy was billow-less as she snuggled into her warm knee-length, black wool coat. She may give up certain things for the Wizarding World, but clothing items were definitely not an option. Bedsides it was a weekend, she was free to be casual.

The pitch was filling up fast. Everyone hurrying to get the super-premo seats for the match between the two most competitive houses at Hogwarts.

"Buffy!" Susie waved frantically, trying to get her attention, as the group stepped onto the stands. "I saved you some seats!"

Right in front of Hermione, Buffy thought grimly. But she wasn't about to refuse Susie because of it, besides they were really good seats.

They made their way over but soon realized that the reserved seating didn't fully fit all four of them.

"Its okay, I'll just sit next to Hermione. That way I can annoy you from behind," Ginny grinned to Buffy.

Neville took a seat next to Seamus, with Luna taking the one next to him. Buffy made herself comfortable in between her and Susie, and Ginny, as promised, sat directly behind her. If Hermione had any qualms about the seating arrangements, she didn't say anything. She just casually began talking to Ginny as they waited.

"Oh, look! It's about to start!" Susie exclaimed, pointing an excited finger to the teams meeting in the middle of the pitch.

Buffy looked down and noticed one bright blond head, and a raven haired one. Her insides torn on which one to cheer for.

Captains hands were shaken. A whistle was blown. And they were off.

"And it's Johnson-Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me--" Lee Jordan blared.

"JORDAN!!" Professor McGonagall yelled in exasperation.

"–just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest- and she's ducked Warrington, she's passed Montague, she's– ouch! Been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe . . . "

"Isn't it amazing?" Susie proclaimed in awe.

"Okay you're liking the violence a little too much there missy," said Buffy.

"Well that's what makes it fun," Ginny imparted as she dipped her head in between the girls.

"Don't encourage her," Buffy warned, taking her wand and slightly tapping Ginny on the head, causing the redhead to rub the sore spot.

The noise was almost deafening. The crowded pitch was nothing but cheering and hollering for their preferred team, and there also seemed to be a large amount of . . . was that singing?

"_Weasley cannot save a thing, He cannot block a single ring, That's why Slytherins all sing: Weasley is our King!_

_Weasley was born in a bin, He always lets the Quaffle in, Weasley will make sure we win, Weasley is our King!_

_Weasley is our King, Weasley is our King, He always lets the Quaffle in, Weasley is our King!_"

The cheery little song rang loud and clear from the Slytherins. Their smiley faces singing each word with joyous fever.

Buffy turned around, and saw Ginny's face matching her hair. Her jaw clenched so tightly she was sure she was going to break a tooth.

"Ginny, don't listen to them. They're idiots. They're only saying those things because they know they're going to lose," Hermione told her.

"–and it's Warrington with the Quaffle, Warrington heading for a goal, he's out of Bludger range with just the Keeper ahead . . . " Lee boomed trying to sound out the increasingly loud song.

"Yeah, don't listen to them Ginny. Th-they're just being gits, because they know how good your brother is," Neville said.

"Slytherin scores!" Lee announced. Earning both cheers and jeers. "So that's ten-nil to Slytherin. Bad luck, Ron."

"WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN, HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN . . . "

The words were growing louder and louder. The snarky voices of Slytherin almost drowning out everyone else.

"WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN, WEASLEY IS OUR KING . . . "

The Gryffindors were ready to pounce. With each note that slithered out of the Slytherins mouth's their anger grew.

For Buffy it was a rather strange experience. It was kinda like watching your little brother or sister walking around with your favorite coat. The one you cared for, and was such a part of you for so long that you couldn't see yourself without it. The one you had to let go of because you had grown out of it. The one that you soon realized, was just not you anymore.

And that's how she felt. Slytherin was a part of her history. Her past. She cared for them on a certain level. They were her family for two years. But what they represented, who they were, was just not her anymore. And she had to sorrowfully let it go.

"WEASLEY CANNOT SAVE A SINGLE THING . . . "

"–and Pucey's dodged Alicia again and he's heading straight for a goal . . . "

It all clicked into place and Buffy let go of that final thread. She had chosen her side. Buffy leaned over to Luna who now had the hat on her lap. Seeing as the thing was so large that the people behind her couldn't see the game. She whispered in her ear, and the girl soon nodded in agreement. Taking her wand out, Buffy pointed it at the lion on Luna's lap.

"WEASLEY IS OUR KING WEASLEY IS OUR--"

A loud thunderous roar swept the pitch.

Everyone stopping mid-cheer, even the players froze on the spot. Every eye turned toward Luna who sat there like she had no idea what was going on. No one noticing Buffy, who held a challenging smile on her face as she looked towards the Slytherins.

There was a whistle from somewhere down below, shaking the players out of the trance. And the match was on again.

"WEASLEY IS OUR--"

The lion then roared again.

"WEASLEY IS--"

Another powerful roar.

It was a face off. And the lion was winning.

Buffy discreetly tapped the lion again, and as the lion opened its jaws it rang out loudly: "GRYFFINDOR! GRYFFINDOR! GRYFFINDOR!"

The roar a mixture of growls and words. And all those supporting the red and gold cheered on with renewed excitement.

Pansy Parkinson glared heatedly, somehow she knew Buffy was behind it. And she was not going to be upstaged. Standing up from her seat, she turned toward her fellow Slytherins and conducted the chant. Pushing them to sing louder.

Ron was guarding the three hoops, like they would bite. He was an idiot to think he could do this. He must've been completely out of his mind. Not to mention the Slytherins song wasn't helping. He had already let four Quaffles in. What the hell was he thinking?

Come on, Ron. You can do it, just concentrate on the game. Harry kept reverting his gaze toward his nervous friend, who he could tell, had not relinquished any of the fear he had been holding on to all morning. Come on, Ron, just– was that the snitch? Harry saw a tiny golden thing fluttering close to the ground near the Slytherin end of the pitch. But as he zoomed down to get it, he noticed that Draco wasn't too far behind.

"–Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle, she's past Warrington, she's heading for goal, come on Angelina– GRYFFINDOR SCORES!"

The crowd cheered and the lion once again roared. It was now forty-ten to Slytherin, but they could still win. Even faster if Harry would capture that stupid Snitch already.

A wind swept up through the air, and Pansy shrieked as she felt her robes billowing up. Pushing down her upswept garment, she suddenly wished she hadn't worn a skirt. Snapping around, her face was screwed up in anger. Her heated eyes landing on Buffy's smug face. That little– eek! Pansy didn't have time to finish her scathing, because that stupid wind had 'accidentally' raised her robes again.

"You should make it stronger," Luna whispered.

"Wish I could," Buffy smiled. "But it'll be too obvious."

"You're probably right," Luna said. "Do it again!"

And with a chuckle Buffy discreetly waved her wand. Earning another distant yelp.

They were neck and neck. Each one trying to catch the fluttering ball. Harry released his right hand from the broom and reached out, just as Draco was during the same.

Just . . . a few . . . more . . . Yes!

Harry wrapped his hand tightly around the Snitch, and he pulled his broom up. His fisted hand waving in the air as he heard the Gryffindors cheer in glory. He felt excitement, he felt relief . . . he felt a sudden hard pain in his back.

As he fell of his broom and landed on the, thankfully, near ground, Harry could hear the angry yells coming from the stands.

"Are you all right?" Angelina frantically asked as she landed beside him.

"Course I am," Harry grimly replied. Allowing himself to be pulled up with Angelina's help.

"It was that thug Crabbe, he wacked the Bludger at you the moment he saw you'd got the Snitch," she angrily told him, right before she cheered. "But we won Harry! We won!"

There was a haughty snort behind him, and any cheering Harry had reserved for himself gave way to irritation.

"Saved Weasley's neck haven't you?" Draco sneered. "I've never seen a worse Keeper . . . but then he _was_ born in a bin . . . did you like my lyrics, Potter?"

Harry ignored him as he faced his teammate as they celebrated. Except Ron, who after dismounting his broom, walked to changing rooms alone and sullen.

"We wanted to write another couple of verses. But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly. We wanted to sing about his mother see . . . " Draco continued on.

"Talk about sour grapes," Angelina stated as she threw Malfoy a disgusted look.

" . . . we couldn't fit in useless loser either. For his father, you know . . . "

Fred and George had finally realized what he was talking about, and breaking away from the group they began to angrily stalk toward Malfoy.

"Leave it!" Angelina pleaded, taking Fred by the arm. "Leave it Fred, let him yell. He's just sore he lost. Let the jumped-up little--"

"–but you like the Weasley's don't you Potter?" Draco sneered. "Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles, even the Weasley's hovel smells okay."

What the hell was he doing? Had he completely lost his mind? Buffy pushed her way into the crowd. Her ears unbelieving of Draco's words. She had to get to him before something stupid happened because he deserved it.

"Or perhaps," Malfoy leered amidst his own laughter. "You can remember what your mother's house stank like Potter, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it--"

He wasn't even aware he had moved, or that he had stopped holding George back. What he did know was that he was angry and wanted to cause Malfoy as much pain as possible.

Buffy watched on in horror as Harry punched Draco in the stomach, and that George wasn't too far behind. Both of them hitting any part of Draco that was available. Damn it, why weren't they letting her through.

"HARRY! HARRY! GEORGE! STOP!"

That was all he could hear but it didn't process to his fists who kept moving. A whistle blew somewhere, and an "Impedimenta!" was yelled, and the next thing Harry knew, he was knocked backward from the spell.

"What do you think you are doing?!" Madam Hooch screamed. With her wand stretched out, it seemed she was the one who had hit him with the jinx.

Harry leapt to his feet and surveyed the damage. Malfoy was curled up in a little ball moaning with a bloody nose, and a few scrapes. George had a swollen lip and everyone was still shocked as to what just occurred. And Buffy . . . Buffy was looking at him with disappointment before she turned to Draco with concern. And Harry suddenly wished he could have another go at Malfoy.

"I've never seen behavior like this. Back up to the castle! The both of you! And straight to your Head of House's! Go! Now!" Hooch ordered.

Harry and George turned on their heels, and without a word to each other they marched into the castle. The Snitch still fluttering inside Harry's grasp.

As soon as they reached McGonagall's door they heard her crisp footsteps behind them, and they watched as she tore the red and gold scarf from her neck and pointed to her office.

"In!" she growled.

They watched her quiver in fury as she took a seat, right after they had taken theirs.

"Well?" she demanded. "I have never seen such a disgraceful exhibition. Two on one! Explain yourselves!"

"Malfoy provoked us," Harry defended them.

"Provoked you?" she shouted, slamming an angry fist on her desk. "He'd just lost hadn't he? Of course he wanted to provoke you! But what on earth can he have said that justified what you two--"

"He insulted my parents. And Harry's mother," George snarled.

"But instead of leaving it to Madam Hooch to sort out, you decided to give an exhibition of Muggle dueling did you? Have you any idea what you've--"

"Hem, hem."

All eyes turned to the doorway where Professor Umbridge stood with a sickly smile on her face.

"May I help, Professor McGonagall?"

"Help?" she asked, her face feeling hot. "What do you mean help?"

"Why I thought you might be grateful for a little extra authority," Umbridge said as she walked into the room.

"You thought wrong." McGonagall was sure her ears were steaming by now. "Now, you two had better listen closely," she said turning her attention back to the boys. "I don't care what provocation Malfoy offered you, I do not care if he insulted every family member you posses, your behavior was disgusting and I am giving you each a week's worth of detention! And if either of you--"

"Hem, hem."

McGonagall closed her eyes as she prayed for patience, before turning her attention to the toad-faced woman.

"Yes?" she clenched out.

"I think they deserve more than detentions," she smiled broadly.

"But it is what I think that counts, as they are in my house, Dolores," McGonagall tightly smiled.

"Well, actually Minerva. You'll see that what I think does count," she said through her little laugh, as she rummaged through her bag. "Here it is." She pulled out a parchment, unfurled it and cleared her throat. "'Educational Decree Number Twenty-Five'."

"Not another one!" McGonagall exclaimed.

"Well, yes. As a matter of fact Minerva it was you who made me see we needed another amendment. After you overrode me when I was unwilling to re-form the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and took the case straight to Dumbledore, who allowed them to play. Well I couldn't have that, and I contacted the Minister at once, and he agreed the High Inquisitor should have the power to strip the pupils of their privileges, or she–that is to say I–would have less authority than the common teacher! And now you see, Minerva, how right I was in attempting to stop the Gryffindor team from re-forming? Such dreadful tempers . . . but as I was saying 'Educational Decree Number Twenty-Five: High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the power to alter such punishments, sanctions and removal of privileges as may have been ordered by other staff members. Signed, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, Order of Merlin First Class, etc., etc." She rolled up the parchment and stuffed into her bag again. The horrid smile still on her face. "So, as is in my right, I am banning these two from playing Quidditch ever again."

"Ban us?" Harry asked disbelieving. "From playing . . . ever again?"

"Yes Mr. Potter, I think a lifelong ban ought to do the trick," she responded in utter pleasure. "You and Mr. Weasley here. And I think, to be safe, this young man's twin ought to be banned as well. If his teammates had not retrained him, I feel he would've attacked Mr. Malfoy as well. I will be confiscating their broomsticks of course, and to be on the safe side, they will be locked up in my office. But I am not unreasonable Professor McGonagall the rest of the team can continue playing. I saw no violence from them," she grinned even wider as though she were doing them favor. "Well . . . good afternoon."

And with a smug look of satisfaction Umbridge left the room. Leaving stunned silence in her wake.

* * *

Note: Thank you for the reviews! Love, love, love them :) And as for the Buffy pairing, which is still up in the air, it depends on wether I continue the story all the way through the end of the series. So, it could definitely go either way :)


	24. Chapter 24

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

It was quiet. So far so good. Sneaking into the room Buffy looked out for Madam Pomfrey, but all seemed to be clear. The place was darkened by the night sky which was definitely a plus when one was trying to sneak in unseen. She quickly moved past the empties, and toward the farthest bed from the door.

And there he was.

Sleepin' like a baby.

She pulled the curtain further until she was covered from view, and most of Draco was hidden that wasn't too suspicious. Pulling up a nearby chair as quietly as possible, she sat down and pulled out her wand.

"Muffliato!" she commanded and then put it back in her pocket.

"Draco," she said gently as she shook him. "Draco."

She felt him stir beneath her fingers, and watched him blink awake.

"Hi," he smiled groggily. "I was wondering when you'd get here."

"Well I had to wait for your fan club to clear out didn't I."

"What can I say? I'm a popular man," he grinned as Buffy rolled her eyes.

"How are you?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

"I'm okay. Pomfrey got me all patched up. I'll be out of here by morning."

"Good," she nodded. "What the HELL were you thinking?!"

The quick change of tone in her voice made Draco literally jump in surprise.

"Have you completely lost your mind?! What the hell was going on in that thick head of yours?!"

Draco shot up into a sitting position as he frantically tried to shush Buffy's loud voice.

"Don't shush me! No one can hear us. I put a jinx to form some sort of silence-bubble-thing–anyway back to my point. What the hell is the matter with you?!"

Taking a deep breath Buffy calmed herself down. As Draco's ashamed eyes looked down and away from her.

"Okay, I'm good now," she said. "But seriously! What were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he grumbled as he threw himself back into the pillow. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Oh yeah brilliant."

"Hey we'd just lost! And Potter's always strutting around like he's the bloody greatest wizard since Merlin. He deserved everything I said to him," he angrily spouted.

"Yeah and look at where that got you."

"The old Buffy would've supported me," he mumbled lowly, but she heard every word.

"Really?" she raised an eyebrow. "Draco look me in the eye and tell me that the old Buffy would've actually cheered you on."

With his arms crossed over his chest he slowly met her gaze, and then quickly looked away. She was right. The old Buffy would've yelled at him just like the current one did. She would've done everything in her power to have prevented his rant, because she knew this is was where he would've exactly ended up.

"You goaded him," she stated. "You pushed and pushed until he had no other choice but to kick your ass. You brought this on yourself."

"You're defending him?!" he outraged.

"No, he's a dumbass too," Buffy said. "You're both idiots with your heads so far up your bums you can smell last night's dinner. How many times have I told you to control your stupid temper?"

Draco closed his eyes as he gave a deep sigh. "Every day since I can remember."

"You'd think all those years would've made an impression." A sudden memory of Giles scolding her for not listening flashed in her mind. That was creepy. "Look," she started softly. "I'm just trying to look out for you okay. Trying to keep you out of trouble."

"That's all you ever seem to do," he smiled, looking down as he picked at the blanket.

"Well somebody has to."

Buffy reached out her hand and clasped it over his. Draco lifting his eyes to her.

"You're a spoiled rotten brat who always has to have his way," she said lovingly. "But will you at least try to gain some common sense?"

Draco chuckled. "I can't promise anything."

"Figures," she sighed, taking her hand back and leaning against the back of the chair. "A leopard can't change its spots, or a dragon and its scales in this case."

A sudden wide grin appeared on Buffy's face, and Draco immediately gained his own. The situation had suddenly become very funny and they laughed until it hurt.

* * *

When Ron had entered the common room that night, after disappearing and sulking to wherever it was after the match, Hermione and Harry informed him of the Quidditch ban Umbridge had put upon Harry, George and Fred. Leaving the Gryffindor team with only three players.

Ron blamed himself. Harry blamed himself. They argued, they argued some more and it wasn't until Hermione brought up some good news did they stop.

"Hagrid's back," she grinned.

And after sneaking out of the castle, huddled inside the Invisibility Cloak, they now sat around Hagrid's hut as they listened to his tale about his meeting with the giants. A large piece of dragon meat over his bruised eye. One of the many wounds that covered his face, and no doubt, body.

"So you found them?" Hermione asked in a hushed voice.

"Well, they're not that difficult ter find, ter be honest. Pretty big see," Hagrid responded.

"Where are they?" Ron questioned.

"Mountains," he answered. "But Madame Maxime an' I weren' the only ones' lookin' fer 'em."

"Death Eaters," Ron solemnly spoke

"They're tryin' ter persuade 'em to join Yeh-Know-Who."

"Did they?" Harry asked him.

"Well we did wha' we meant ter do, we gave 'em Dumbledore's message," he replied sullenly. "An' some o' them heard it an' I spect some o' them'll remember it. Jus' maybe, them that don' want ter stay around Golgomath'll move outta the mountains, an' there's gotta be a chance they'll remember Dumbledore's friendly to 'em . . . could be they'll come."

"Who's Golgomath?" asked Hermione.

"He's the Gurg– the chief giant."

"So . . . who exactly did this to you?" Ron indicated to Hagrid's wounds.

"Well that's--"

There was a rapping at the door. Hermione dropped her mug, Fang barked, and they all turned to the space in between the window and the curtain. Standing amidst the shadows was a small, squat shaped figure.

"It's her!" Ron whispered.

"Get under here!" Harry said sharply, grabbing the Invisibility Cloak and wrapping it around himself, Hermione and Ron. The trio backing up into a corner.

"Hide our mugs," someone whispered aggressively.

Hagrid grabbed Harry and Ron's mugs and stuffed them under the cushion in Fang's basket. Pushing aside his dog, who was now barking madly at the door, he grabbed a hold of the handle and pried it open.

Professor Umbridge was standing there. Her small figure just barely reaching Hagrid's navel, and her loathsome face looking up at him.

"So you're Hagrid, are you?" she asked loudly, as though he couldn't hear her all the way up there. Without waiting for an invitation she walked into the room, her eyes moving to every square inch of the hut.

"Er–I don' mean ter be rude, but who the ruddy hell are you?" he asked.

"My name is Dolores Umbridge," she pronounced slowly. "I am the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and Hogwarts High Inquisitor."

Her vision didn't stop flittering over the room, and twice it landed on the corner the trio was currently huddled in.

"Wha's that?" Hagrid frowned.

"Precisely what I was going to ask," she said, pointing to a shattered mug on the floor.

"Oh . . . oh tha' was . . . was Fang. He broke a mug," he said nervously. "So I had ter use this one instead."

Hagrid pointed to the mug he had been using. The dragon meat still pressed to his eye.

"I heard voices," Umbridge said. There's a surprise . . .

"I was talkin' ter Fang."

"And was he talking back to you?"

"In a manner o' speakin'," he replied, becoming more and more uncomfortable. "I sometimes say Fang's near enough human--"

"There are three sets of footprints in the snow leading from the castle to your cabin," she interrupted slyly.

"Well, I on'y jus' got back," he said, indicating to the haversack leaning against the wall. "Maybe someone came ter call earlier an' I missed 'em."

"There are no footsteps leading away from your cabin door."

"Well I . . . I don' know why that'd be . . . " Hagrid was now tugging nervously on his beard, and glanced to the spot where Harry, Ron and Hermione were hidden.

"Mmm . . . hmm . . . " Umbridge said skeptically.

Turning on her heel, Umbridge began to inspect Hagrid's hut. She peered into cupboards, under the bed, into the cauldron, missed bumping into the trio by a few scant inches . . . twice. And apparently not finding what she was looking for, she turned back to Hagrid.

"What has happened to you? How did you sustain those injuries?"

"I had a bit of an accident," he answered lamely.

"What sort of accident?"

"I-I tripped," he stuttered, which was not a good thing to do when one was trying to lie.

"You tripped," she said cooly.

"Yeah, tha's right. Over . . . over a friend's broomstick. I don' fly meself. Well, look at the size o' me, reckon there ain' a broomstick that'd hold me."

"Where have you been?"

"Where've I--"

"Been. Yes," she cut him off. "Term started two months ago. Another teacher has had to cover your classes. None of your colleagues has been able to give me any information as to your whereabouts. You left no address. Where have you been?"

Hagrid paused as he stared at her with his newly uncovered eye. His mind working furiously to come up with an excuse.

"I-I've been away for me health," he said.

"For your health," she repeated. Her buldged eyes raking over his wounded face. "I see."

"Yeah. Bit o' fresh air, yeh know."

"Yes as a gamekeeper fresh air must be so difficult to come by," she said sweetly.

"Well, change o' scenery, yeh know--"

"Mountain scenery?"

Harry's eyes widened. She knows.

"Mountains?" he said quickly. "No, South o' France fer me. Bit o' sun an' sea."

"You don't have much of a tan."

"Oh well . . . sensitive skin," he wobbly smiled.

Umbridge smiled at him coldly as she readjusted her bag, and Hagrid's smile disappeared.

"I shall of course be informing the Minister of your late return."

"Righ'," he nodded.

"You ought to know, too, that as High Inquisitor it is my unfortunate but necessary duty to inspect my fellow teachers. So I daresay we shall meet again soon enough."

"You're inspectin' us?" he asked in surprise.

"Oh, yes. The Ministry is determined to weed out unsatisfactory teachers, Hagrid. Goodnight," she said, and then she was gone.

Harry made to pull of the Invisibility Cloak but Hermione stopped him.

"Not yet," she whispered. "She might not be gone yet."

Hagrid seemed to be thinking on the same level, because he walked over to the window and pulled back the curtain.

"She's goin' back ter the castle," he said. "Blimey, inspectin' people is she?"

"Yeah, Trelawney's on probation already," Harry answered as he pulled off the cloak.

"Um . . . what sort of things are you planning to do with us Hagrid?" Hermione asked warily.

"Oh, don' you worry abou' that. I've got a great load o' lessons planned," Hagrid cheerily replied. "I've bin keepin' a couple o' creatures saved fer yer OWL year. You wait. They're somethin' really spacial."

"Erm . . . special in what way?" she asked tentatively.

"I'm not sayin', don' want ter spoil the surprise," he smiled.

"Look, Hagrid," she said seriously. "Professor Umbridge, won't be at all happy if you bring anything to class that's too dangerous."

"Dangerous?" he asked, as though it were a foreign word. "Don' be silly, I wouldn' give yeh anythin' dangerous!"

"Hagrid you've got to pass Umbridge's inspection, and to do that it would really be better if she saw you teaching us how to look after Porlocks, and how to tell the difference between Knarls and hedgehogs, stuff like that!"

"But tha's not very interestin', Hermione," he imparted. "The stuff I've got is so much more impressive. I've bin bringing' 'em on fer years. I reckon I've got the on'y domestic herd in Britain."

"Hagrid please," she pleaded desperately. "Umbridge is looking for any excuse to get rid of teachers she thinks are too close to Dumbledore. Please, Hagrid, teach us something dull that's bound to come up in our OWL's."

But Hagrid merely yawned, as he cast a glance to his bed in the corner.

"Lis'en, its bin a long day an' it's late," he said, patting Hermione on the shoulder who then fell to her knees with a thunk from the weight of it. "Oh, sorry," he apologized and pulled her back up. "Look, don' you worry abou' me. I promise yeh I've got really good stuff planned fer yer lessons now that I'm back. Now you lot had better get on back to the castle. An' don' forget to wipe yer footprints out behind yeh!"

With each step they made through the snow, any evidence was destroyed with Hermione's Obliteration Charm. Leaving no trace behind them as they made it up to the castle.

"I dunno know if you got through to him," Ron told her.

"Then I'll go back again tomorrow," she said determinedly. "I'll plan his lessons if I have to. I don't care if she throws out Trelawney, but she is not getting Hagrid!"

By the time they reached their dormitories they were shivering from head to foot, and bidding rapid goodnights they rushed up to their rooms to some very warm and comfortable beds.

Harry changed into his pajamas in record time. His body still shivering as he climbed underneath his covers. He quickly pulled the blankets up to his neck and gave a satisfied sigh as he snuggled deep into his warm bed. His mind immediately finding sleep.

Buffy had just barely reached her bed when she heard footsteps coming closer. Jumping in she quickly pulled the drapes around. She found Hermione's bed to be the only empty one when she first came in. So that rules out that D.A. meeting thing. Only other option was her running around with Ron and Harry, which they did often tend to do, and was most likely the answer.

Buffy heard the door open and close, and then a few rustles later there was quiet. She waited a little longer and then changed into some warm sweat pants and a thermo before snuggling beneath her covers. And letting out a satisfied sigh, she drifted off into dream land.

* * *

The sound of dried leaves crunched beneath their feet as they listened for any signs of nearby danger. Their eyes passed over familiar headstones as they combed through the known cemetery with a sharp wooden object in hand. And then something jumped out at them. A man. His face grotesquely deformed. They raised the wooden object in readiness. They knew what to do.

They were in a school now. A library. Their heart was beating wildly inside their chest as they surveyed the damage. Worry immediately clogging their throat. And then they saw it. A dead body. A girl.

The sun was bright as they stood over a grave. Mourners covered in black stood around them. Their eyes fixated on the tombstone. Out of the corner they saw movement. Someone familiar was walking toward them. A man dressed in black. His skin so pale it reflected the light. He finally stopped beside them. His brown eyes boring into theirs. And then he spoke.

"You have to know what to see."

Harry woke up with a start. His breath ragged as he frantically looked around the room. Everything was familiar again, and he relaxed back into the mattress. He brought up his right hand to wipe his sweaty face but stopped when he noticed he was holding something. His wand. He wasn't holding it like he normally did. Instead his hand was clutched around the middle of it, and the pointy end was facing down. He was holding it like a weapon. Like he had in the dream. The dream that had felt so real. But it couldn't be. It was just a dream . . . right?

* * *

Note: Another update in a row! Thanks for the reviews hope they'll keep coming. And for all you authors out there, I'm waiting for updates too you know :) I like to read stories too!


	25. Chapter 25

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

Her name was Faith. The new Sunnydale slayer. And a wild child. Or so Willow had been telling her in all of her recent updates.

A letter arrived for Buffy early on Sunday morning. Her half awake mind, grabbing the letter from Deity, before the owl hooted once and flew away. Stuffing the unopened envelope underneath her pillow, Buffy yawned, stretched, and rose from her bed.

A half-hour later, freshly showered and changed, she retrieved the delivery that had interrupted her much needed beauty sleep, and tore the envelope open. The white lined paper always making her smile from the reminder of her Muggle living days. Her smile widening even more when she read the letter from her friends on her way down to breakfast.

Ethan Rayne had been back in town. Which automatically spells trouble. His sneaky little habit of raising mayhem had made yet another appearance. Last year it was Halloween. This year it was band candy. Apparently, Demon Raiser Rayne had bewitched the chocolate bars that Snyder had enforced everyone to sell. Band member or not. Which should've been innocent enough. Of course that was until the candy had all the adults who ate them, revert back to their glorious teenage days. Insert creepy mental images here. The 'adults' partied like it was 1979. They partied, moshed, showed some major disgusting PDA, and stuck it to the man. Even Giles had been part of the action. It seems that Willow and Faith had accidentally walked in on him snogging Ms. Moran, a history teacher at Sunnydale High, on their way to the chocolate factory to put an end to Ethan's plan. Which was disturbing in it of itself, until it made you wonder what else they had been up to. Ew, gross, bad imagery. Buffy was just glad her mom hadn't been there. Who knows what she would've done. Thankfully she was back at home just hanging around, or at Grimmauld Place with Sirius and Remus enjoying some tea. Not being part of any snogging of any kind.

"Hey Buffy."

Quickly crumbling the letter in her hand, Buffy turned around.

"Hey Ginny," she smiled, as the redhead came off the last step into the common room, in which Buffy had just barely realized she was in.

"What are you reading?"

"Oh it's nothing, just a letter from some people--what's up?"

Ginny eyed her suspiciously, but was used to Buffy's secretiveness by now to shrug it off. She was still in her little Buffy shell, but that was okay. She didn't exactly get the warmest of receptions from people and Ginny was patient. It was one of her most grateful virtues.

"I just wanted to see if you wanted to play in the snow," she said cheerily.

"I don't know . . . all that cold . . . icy fingers, frozen limbs . . . "

"We can throw snowballs at Neville."

"Okay, I'm in."

Ginny grinned at the sudden happy smile on Buffy's face.

"Not going to spend the day with Michael?" she asked, referring to Ginny's boyfriend.

"Not until later. He's at the pitch playing Quidditch with his friends," she said.

"Okay just let me go get my coat and I'll meet you outside," Buffy said.

"Okay but don't take too long," Ginny shook her finger.

"Yeah, yea, yeah."

The girls parted ways, with Ginny leaving through the portrait hole and Buffy going back upstairs.

"I wonder who she's writing to," Ron said almost accusingly.

"Who?" Harry asked, his eyes still on the parchment.

Hermione had left that morning to visit Hagrid, to try and talk some sense into him once again. While Harry and Ron begrudgingly stayed behind in the common room, to finish the homework they had let pile up.

"Buffy," he answered. "Hermione's been saying that she's been getting lots of mail lately."

"Maybe she's talking to her friends back home," Harry told him. The large amount of homework his only worry right now.

"Or to the Ministry," he mumbled. "Say, don't you ever wonder where she was before she came back?"

"California," Harry answered offhandedly, then paused when he realized what he had said. Forgetting that he wasn't supposed to know where she had been.

"What?" Ron asked. Harry had replied so fast that he didn't understand his words clearly.

"I said I don't know." That was a close one. "I thought you said you didn't care?"

"I don't, but it seems strange that no one really knows all that much about it. I mean don't you think it's a little weird that nobody knows anything. I mean it's not like I care, cause I don't, but what if--"

A loud succession of bangs was heard, and both boys turned to the window where large globs of snow where smashed against it.

"That's it I've had enough," Ron said, exasperated of the many snowballs that had been hitting the Gryffindor Tower for the past hour. "Oy!" he shouted as he stuck his head out the window. "I am a prefect and if one more snowball hits this window–Ouch!"

Ron pulled back into the room, his face covered in snow.

"Its Fred and George," he told Harry as he wiped his face and closed the window. "Gits."

Buffy had come back downstairs dressed in a baby blue coat, black gloves, a white scarf and a knitted black hat. Harry and Ron watching her as she left the common room without a single glance toward them. A minute later they watched the portrait swing open again and Hermione stepping through.

"So? Got all his lessons planned for him?" Ron asked as he resumed his seat next to Harry.

"Well I tried," she sighed heavily, taking a seat on a chair next to them, and giving her wand a complicated little wave that emitted hot steam from the tip to dry off her snow ended robes. "He wasn't even there when I arrived. I was knocking for at least half an hour. And then he came stumping out from the Forest--"

"What's he keeping in there? Did he say?" Harry groaned, knowing nothing safe ever came out of the Forest.

"No, he says he wants it to be a surprise," Hermione said miserably. "I tried to explain about Umbridge but he just doesn't get it. He kept saying nobody in their right mind would study Knarls than Chimaeras. I don't know how many times I told him he'd be better off following Grubbly-Plank's lesson plan, I honestly don't think he listened to half of what I said. He's in a bit of a funny mood, you know. He still won't say how he got all those injures."

The three of them shared worried looks, wondering how Hagrid had sustained so many wounds, and why he didn't tell them when he usually told them everything. Wondering if it was something so bad that he couldn't tell them. Which caused them to worry even more.

The snowball hit her mid-face and Buffy gasped from the rush of coldness.

"Sorry Buffy I didn't see you there," Neville grinned.

"Oh really?" she said as she bent down to gather snow in her hands.

"You're in for it now Neville!" Ginny shouted.

The smile immediately fell off his face when he saw Buffy now holding a very large snowball in her grasp.

"Ginny made me do it!"

"I did not!"

"Okay it was Luna!"

"I did not!"

"Susie?" he asked pleadingly.

"You're on your own," she said as she ran as far away from him as possible.

With a dangerous smirk on her lips Buffy wound up her arm and threw the snowball toward him. Neville immediately shielded his face with his arms, but nothing came. Peeking through an open space between his limbs, Neville saw her standing there with her arms behind her back. Looking around he found the intended snowball smashed into a tree behind him.

"Better luck--" he started before a cold smack hit him right in the face.

"I'm sorry what was that?" Buffy asked sweetly.

"That's it," he said, gathering snow in his hands preparing to attack.

The girls immediately grabbed some snow of their own in readiness. It was war.

"Look at her," Pansy sneered.

"Playing with them," Millicent spat.

"Acting like she was never one of us," Daphne imputed.

"Like she never hated their guts," Tracey added.

The Slytherin girls stood off to side, not 'lowering' themselves to participate in such childish games. Watching and sneering at the blonde who used to be one of them. The one who used to lead them, play in the snow.

Buffy had ducked another snowball, and quickly threw one at Luna who ducked just in time but hit a surprised Ginny instead.

"Has Draco said anything about her?" Tracey asked suddenly.

"Why do you say that?" Pansy snapped.

"I-I was . . . I was just wondering," she stuttered. "I mean she's been back for two months a-and--"

"He doesn't care that she's back," Pansy bit out. "Why should he? He has me now. He doesn't care about her anymore."

The other girls shared quick looks, knowing that no matter how hard she tried Pansy would never be able to replace Buffy. Not when it came to Draco.

"Besides, she'll be gone by the end of the year," Pansy said casually.

"Why do you say that?" Daphne questioned.

"Because I don't want her around," she mysteriously replied. Her hard eyes on Buffy as she laughed at Neville's snow-covered body.

* * *

Snow still blanketed the grounds that night. Buffy taking just a little longer to reach her destination as she had to cover her tracks so she wouldn't be traced or found out.

Maneuvering through the trees, she made her way to the darkest parts of the Forest. The place where the snow didn't fall and the light didn't seep through. Where creatures of all kinds could stand in plain few at night and still be hard to see. Twirling the wand in her hands she let her senses do the work and calmly roamed around.

The demon community didn't seem to be biting lately. Which was a good thing, but also left her feeling restless. She had muscles and energy to spare, and they were not being put to good use. So not the best thing for a slayer. Slipping through a narrow space between two trees Buffy heard something behind her. Heavy footsteps that stopped suddenly as they caught sight of her.

"Who's there?" they called out.

Hagrid.

Buffy tensed up shortly and loosened her grip on her wand before turning around and facing him.

"I said who's there?" he asked again a little louder.

She was half hidden within the shadows. He couldn't see who it was, so he raised his lantern a little higher as to get a better view.

The last Buffy had heard of him was that he was up in the mountains with Madame Maxime, trying to convey the giants to their side. But he was obviously back now. She wondered if he had talked to Dumbledore yet?

"I-it's just me," she said as she walked closer to him. Might as well get it over with now. They were bound to cross paths in the Forest sooner or later.

"Buffy Summers?" She was older now, but it was obviously her. "What are yeh doin' out here?"

"Oh you know . . . just enjoying the sights, the sounds, the near death experience," she nervously smiled.

"Yeh . . . yeh shouldn' be out here," he stuttered out uneasily. "It's– wait a minute . . . Dumbledore told me about yeh."

"Exactly what, did he tell you?" First rule of getting caught: Don't volunteer information. Actually the first rule of being caught: Don't get caught.

"Said yeh was part o' the . . . " he leaned in closer and whispered. "Yeh know what, cause yeh was a--"

"Yeah, I'm one of– yeah that's me," she interrupted before he could say her supernatural status. "So what else did Dumbledore say?"

"Told me yeh'd be roamin' round the Forest at night so I shouldn' worry if I hear noises," he answered. "Also made me promise to keep it a secret an' pretend like I didn' know anythin'."

"Good, that's . . . good. That's--" Buffy stopped when she finally got a good look at Hagrid's face. "Hagrid what happened to you?"

"What?" he asked surprised. Then he remembered the wounds that still covered his skin. "Oh, it's nothing' don'--"

"Did something do this to you?" she asked, looking around.

"Oh no! It's nothin' like tha'."

"What happened?" she asked again in worry.

"It's nothing' really, yeh shouldn' worry . . . " The idea struck him suddenly. He could really use the help after all, and Buffy was as a slayer. A strong being if there ever was one. He was sure she could handle it. But that's only if she wanted to.

"Can yeh keep a secret?" he asked.

"I pretty much live in secretes Hagrid."

His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, but shook it off. That was a yes right?

"Yeh see . . . there's this . . . " he struggled to explain it, but there was only one way to do it. "I think it'll be better if I show yeh."

He turned around and gestured for her to follow. Grasping her wand tighter Buffy did as she was told and skittered her eyes through the trees just in case whatever hurt Hagrid would suddenly pop out.

The path was one she wasn't aware of. Buffy usually stayed around the edges of the Forest, and only went into the dark parts when she went looking for trouble. The trees were now so close together that she had to push herself through the barks. Branches and thorns tugging against her clothing, but she didn't say anything. The baddies usually lived in the darkest of places where they could hide until their next meal. She wasn't sure how long they had been walking. Seemed like forever, but then Hagrid halted all of a sudden.

"What is it?" she whispered.

"Now yeh can' tell no one what I'm about to show yeh," he said.

"Okay."

He questioned his decision again, but it was too late to go back now.

"Okay," he nodded and stepping aside he indicted to something before him.

Buffy's eyes widened and her jaw dropped in shock. Only one word escaping her lips at what she saw.

"Oh."

* * *

The weekend was officially over. Monday classes had started and Buffy was still trying to wrap her mind around Hagrid's little secret. He had asked for her help, and she agreed to it. He was keeping her secret, and it would only be right if she would keep his. Besides he had a real handful on his, you know, hands. He needed all the help he could get.

That morning at breakfast the majority of the student body welcomed Hagrid with enthusiasm. There were a few, like the Slytherins and those who preferred Grubbly-Plank, who were less then happy to see the return of the half-giant. But nuts to them. If they didn't like it too bad.

Later on that day, coming out of potions, Buffy headed straight for the Owlery to deliver her letter to Willow, and told Neville not to wait for her. She would head to the Hall for lunch just as soon as she was done. Buffy wanted to rest Deity for a while before sending her off again, so she waited until today instead of yesterday to send her postage. The owl had been flying constantly lately, but she didn't seem to mind it. It was almost like she couldn't wait for her next delivery. Maybe she had just as much energy as Buffy herself, which was a very good thing when she had so many distant deliveries to make. Stupid Wizarding World and their lack of basic technology. If they had Wizard's Wireless, would it be so hard to make a phone. It would make things so much better.

Owl finally sent, with letter in place, Buffy was making her way through the first floor corridor, her stomach rumbling as she hurried toward the Hall where all the food awaited to be eaten. She pulled her bag close to her side as she pushed through the little groups. Squeezing past when they moved too slow.

"Look who it is," Daphne said sweetly.

Buffy fought the urge to roll her eyes, and for some reason unknown to her, she turned around.

"If it isn't the little blood traitor," Tracey grinned.

"What's the matter Summers, cat got your tongue?" Daphne asked, when Buffy had yet to say a word.

"Or is that lion?" Tracey added, thinking the joke was hilarious.

"Come on we better head to the Hall, and sit with the rest of Slytherins," Daphne said taking a hold of Tracey's arm. "You know the table where the _real_ wizards sit."

"See you around Goldilocks," Tracey taunted. Both girls giggling as they pushed past her.

Grabbing the strap of her bag tighter in irritation, Buffy gave a deep sigh and turned around. Her entire body freezing when she noticed she wasn't the only one who had heard the Goldilocks remark. And by the looks she was receiving they had most likely figured it out.

Crap.

This was so not good.

* * *

Note: Thanks for all the reviews guys. Made me all happy ;) Hope they'll keep coming.


	26. Chapter 26

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

Second year . . .

"Make way for the Heir of Slytherin!"

"Make way!"

"Seriously, evil wizard coming through!"

Fred and George were shouting down the corridor as they pushed the students aside to make a passageway for Harry. While Percy and Hermione looked at them disapprovingly, Ron and Harry were smiling enjoying the twins' behavior.

"Well if it isn't Tweedledee and Tweedledum," Buffy smiled as she stopped before them with Draco, Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle and Daphne around her, blocking their path. "Two bodies sharing half a brain. With not an original thought to prove it."

"I'd be careful if I were you Summers," Fred sneered.

"Wouldn't want you to have a little . . . _accident_," George smiled.

The threat in their voices didn't even make her bristle. Instead she calmly took a step closer to them.

"Not very bright are you?" she taunted. "Well what can you really expect, from you know . . . people like you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked George.

"If you have to ask than it just proves my point," she smiled. "Making threats out in the open, with so many witnesses. Wow. Your lack of your intelligence just never seizes to amaze me."

The Slytherins behind her giggled and chuckled, and the Gryffindors before her scowled and glared.

"Your forgetting one little thing there Summers," Fred began.

"They won't say a word because people actually _like _us," George said pointedly.

"Oh dear, dear George," she started, the twins surprised that she could tell them apart when so very few people could. "It's not about being liked. It's about who they're afraid of the most."

A small little crowd had gathered around them. Intrigued at the banter. But when Buffy turned to the side and looked at them innocently with her bright green eyes, a little shiver went up their spines and they scurried away. Buffy, Draco and the Slytherins smirking confidently as they turned back to the Gryffindors, noticing their irritated looks.

"And then of course there's still your brother," she continued.

"Me?" Ron asked in surprise.

"No not you," she rolled her eyes. "You should really stop hanging around Potter, Weasel. His narcissism seems to be catching like a disease."

"Look who's talking about narcism," Hermione spat.

"Aw was that a comeback?" she asked aggravatingly, and Hermione's face went entirely red. "Besides I was talking about Percy. You know. The prefect."

Fred and George turned to Percy expecting him to defend them, but he didn't say a word.

"It's his responsibility to uphold the rules and regulations of Hogwarts. To make sure that those who cause, or wish to cause, trouble are punished to the full extent of his power. And now here you are putting yourselves on the line in front him. Making you wonder what he'll choose? His family or his position?"

Harry and Hermione scowled at her even more when they noticed the tension she had created between the Weasley family.

"Now I don't know about you, but I'm curious as to find out which one it would be."

"You're just jealous," Harry said, stepping up to her. Not being able to stay silent any longer. "Because people actually like them for who they are, and the only way you can get people to talk to you is through fear."

Buffy placed her arms behind her back and walked up to Harry until they were scant inches from each other. A sweet expression on her face.

"Well look who's grown a back bone," she said. "Finally decided not to let other people fight your battles for you?"

"You're one to talk," Ron told her from the side somewhere. "Always got your groupies hanging around you."

Buffy and Harry were still staring eye to eye. A challenging look in each of their green gazes.

"And I suppose you and Granger are hanging around Potter for his brilliance," Draco sarcastically shot back.

"He's our friend," Hermione spoke up. "Not like you would know anything about true friendship."

"The only true thing you know is disgrace Mudblood," Pansy spouted.

"You won't say that to her again if you know what's good for you," Fred retorted.

"I'd watch your friends' tongues if I were you," Buffy threatened in an undertone so only Harry could hear her. Not that it would matter, the people around them were still snapping at one another.

"Look who's making open threats now," he bit out.

Buffy smiled confidently. "But here's the difference . . . I don't care."

Harry's jaw was clenched tightly, as he watched Buffy move back, closer to her 'friends'. The smile still gracing her face.

"Come on," she said to those around her, her taunting eyes still on Harry. "They weren't as entertaining as I thought they would be."

"They never actually are," Draco added. "Just a pathetic waste of time."

"A waste of space," Daphne shot.

"See you guys around," Buffy said brightly, almost friendly.

The group turned on their heels and headed off to who knows where. Behaving like the past few minutes hadn't occurred.

"I really hate her," Hermione clenched out.

"Don't worry," Ron said. "She'll get what's coming to her. Just like Malfoy."

Harry didn't say anything as he watched them go. Glaring until he could almost put holes into Buffy's back.

* * *

She had a hand clamped over each of their mouths as she pushed them into a nearby empty room. How many rooms did this castle have? Kicking the door closed behind her, just like she had to kick it open, she pushed them to the middle of the four walls and looked at them pointedly.

"Okay," she said slowly. "Now before I let go. I'd just like to remind you that I'm very close to certain parts of your anatomy that could possibly leave you childless forever. So no funny stuff, got it?"

Fred and George nodded slowly as they moved their hands protectively over their delicate areas.

"Good, seems like I've made myself clear," she smiled when she noticed the action. "Now, no screaming, or running, or wand waving, or Skiving Snackbox thingies. Okay?"

They nodded again.

"Okay," she said, and swiftly moved her hands away.

At once Fred and George began to bombard her with so many questions that she had trouble understanding what they were saying. So she clamped her hands over their mouths again.

"Okay, so that didn't work," she sighed, not noticing the twins covering their certain areas again.

Fred and George looked at each other, communicating a silent message and at the same time slowly removed a surprised Buffy's hands from their mouths.

"You know if you wouldn't 've been so weird about it," Fred started.

"We would've never thought you're who we think you are," George finished off.

"Really?" she asked.

The twins glanced at each other, mulled it over, and then turned back. "No."

Leaning against a nearby table, she grumbled. "I didn't think so."

They watched as she crossed her arms over her chest and looked toward the floor.

"So care to explain?"

"Cause we're coming up empty."

"What do you wanna know?" she asked looking at them.

"Well for starters."

"Just to clear things up."

"Are you a remember of the Order?"

She could lie. Tell them it was all a mistake. Of course five minutes ago she could've ignored their surprised stares and feigned like nothing had happened. But it wouldn't have worked either way. Fred and George had snooped in on the Order meetings at Grimmauld Place, mostly likely heard when Sirius and some of the other members called her Goldilocks– if their knowing faces were something to go by– put two and two together and came up with one shocking answer.

"Yes," she grudgingly replied.

"Why?" George asked.

"Why what?"

"Why you and not us?"

Because she was a slayer that's why.

"Because Dumbledore asked me to."

"But why did Dumbledore ask you to?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because. Because."

"Well that answers everything," George rolled his eyes.

"Glad that's all cleared now."

"Look you guys are just gonna have to take my word on this," she told them.

"That seems likely," Fred scoffed.

"Given your track record."

This was starting to get just a little bit annoying. It was like beating a dead horse. Buffy felt her mind shudder. Gross imagery.

"Look . . . " she gave a great heaping sigh and decided to throw them a bone. Just enough so they would get off her back, but not so much that it would put her or them in a compromising situation. "If I tell you, you have to promise not to say a word. To anybody."

"Well now that all depends," Fred smiled, as he hopped onto a table.

"This isn't a bargain," she firmly said.

"That's what you think," George winked, as he hopped next to his brother. "We know something you don't want other people to know."

"So it looks like you're backed into a corner here."

"Has anybody ever told you, you were too underhanded for your own good?" Buffy asked.

"Of course."

"All the time." The Twins said proudly.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Information."

"What kind of information?" she asked, eyeing them warily.

"The good kind of course," Fred nodded strongly.

"I can't tell you anything about the Order," she stated, and raised her hand when they opened their mouths to object. "Even if I wanted to, I've been sworn to secrecy. Unless of course you'd want to take this up with Dumbledore."

"Okay so no Order," George said.

"How about brutal honesty," Fred told her. Confusing Buffy, and slightly his brother.

"As in?" she asked suspiciously.

"Did you tell Umbridge about the meeting at the Hogs Head?"

Buffy sharply re-crossed her arms over her chest, and clenched her jaw.

"You mean did I tell that cat-loving-pink-poofy-wearing-toad-faced-looking-rotten-flower-smelling-crazy-two-faced-no-style-whatsoever-tacky-dressing-psychotic-sycophant? No."

Fred and George were now grinning widely at the obvious venom in Buffy's voice.

"So we're guessing you love her just as much as we do," George said.

"Oh yeah. We're soul mates," she sarcastically bit out.

"Let's say we believe you," said Fred, and Buffy threw him an exasperated look. "Well you can't blame us for being suspicious."

"You weren't exactly the nicest of people to us then."

"It's a bit of work trying not to see you that way."

"I wasn't that bad," she told them.

Fred hopped of the desk and walked over to her. His eyes sweeping over her forehead.

"What are you doing?" she asked, taking a step back.

"Checking for bumps."

"Very funny," Buffy said sardonically.

"I try."

She rolled her eyes and leaned against a table end. "Okay now that I've answered your question," she said pointedly. "Now will you promise not to tell anyone about my little membership."

"You still haven't told us why you were allowed to join remember?"

"That was the original promise."

"I so got screwed on this deal," she muttered.

"And how," George nodded curtly.

"Okay," she began. "But I need your promise first."

Straightening their backs, and looking as honest as they could, considering it was Fred and George, they nodded. "We promise."

Buffy walked over to them and pulled out the hands they had hidden behind their backs. Her eyebrow raised at the crossed fingers they each held.

"Oh, that. That's nothing."

"Muscle spasm."

"Right," she said, and forcefully uncrossed them. "That's better. Now promise."

"We promise," they disappointedly answered.

"Good." She dropped their hands and resumed her previous position. "Dumbledore needed someone to keep a close eye on Harry."

"That's all?" George asked in disappointed surprise.

"That's all."

"Why you?" Fred asked cynically, his brother catching on.

"Yeah, wouldn't the large amount of professors."

"Plus Dumbledore himself."

"Be enough watching."

"Sure, they could all just follow him around to all his classes and to the dormitory. I mean, they could all just blend right in with all the students and no one would be the wiser. Hey, maybe they can even party together."

"Well you don't have to be sarcastic about it," Fred snootily huffed.

"I still don't get why the others can't know?" George asked.

"Because it's safer that way. If the others knew there would be too many questions, like now, and it's just better if Harry didn't know he was being watched. He'd probably blow up or something. It's just easier to keep people out of the loop. The less people know the better," she shrugged.

"That makes . . . "

"Very little sense."

"Welcome to my world," she sighed.

They looked at her, arms crossed, letting all the information seep in. But something didn't seem right. It was too simple.

"So that's it?" Fred asked skeptically.

"Yep that's it."

Fred and George looked at each other again, and Buffy got a very nervous feeling. At once they turned to face her.

"We don't believe you."

She huffed. "Look I already told why they let me join. I don't--"

"No," George interrupted. "You told us what you do for the Order."

"You didn't tell use why you, specifically, were allowed to join."

"To be honest any one of us could've done it really."

Like a dog with a bone. No, worse, like two nosy teenagers with too much time on their hands.

"Well, there you go, there's your answer," she said out a little too hastily. "They could get anyone and I was just lucky enough to be the one to be picked."

They eyed her again, and she knew that her supposed 'reason' went right down the pooper. Oh, the wonderful joys of secret keeping. She really needed to get herself an easier lifestyle. Maybe she could be a dog walker. She liked dogs.

"Look," she started, and paused briefly when she suddenly realized she's used that word too often today. "I kept my promise, all right. I told you about my private membership. Answered your question about Mrs. Toad. So as far as I'm concerned. I've already kept my end of the deal."

"But you forgot one thing," George reminded her, and she didn't like the look of the smirk on his face.

"We're too underhanded for our own good remember," Fred added proudly.

"And unless you don't want us to let your little members only secret out."

"Something we might _accidentally_ spill on any given random day . . . " he insinuatingly trailed off.

"You two are aware I'm going to have to go to Dumbledore about this," she almost glared at their sneakiness. "I mean now that you know."

The Twins gulped and their eyes got a little bigger.

"Not so nice being backed up into a corner is it," she smugly said. "And I'm pretty sure if I can't keep your lips from spilling he can . . . or your mother."

Their eyes really got bigger now. But like all other things Fred and George were not about to back down when they were handed such a wonderful opportunity.

"Even if you do," Fred said calmly, almost uncaring. "There's really nothing stopping us from telling."

"And we're guessing you telling your secret is so much worse than us knowing about it."

She narrowed her eyes. Damn it, they were right. Slippery little weasels, or Weasleys. The most Dumbledore could do to them is make them promise not to say a word, but people break promises every day. Especially juicy little ones that were kept by secret organizations. She really got screwed on this deal.

"Lets say I tell you," she started slowly, and could almost see their ears perking up in attention. "Will you promise, and I mean really finally promise, that that'll be the end of your little black mailing? And that you won't tell anyone about it? And I literally mean anyone."

They paused. "Will you tell Dumbledore about us knowing?"

"What if I said I had to," she answered cautiously.

Fred and George thought it over. Buffy slightly amazed that they didn't need to discuss things out loud. They really should be studied.

"So either way you're telling Dumbledore," George didn't ask.

"I never said that," she pointed it.

"But it is a possibility."

"Yes. Just like you telling other people is a possibility."

They crossed their arms in thought and weighed the options. Either way Dumbledore was going to know they knew. Maybe even the rest of the members. That was fact. Now it came to wether how much they wanted to know Buffy's secret. They could leave it as is, and only know about her membership. But you can't just bite the apple and not eat the whole thing. And it wasn't like they were going to tell anyone. They made a promise, and they never go back on a promise. Of course Buffy didn't need to know about that. So when it came down to it, it was a no brainer.

Buffy felt her nerves on edge. She had the most to lose here. And it bothered the heck out of her that she wasn't in control of the situation. Something that rarely happened. It was like making a deal with the devil.

She could always just back out. Tell them that what they knew was all they were going to know. What's the worse that could happen. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny would know. So what, she could deal with that. She could even lie and say the Fred and George were making it up. They would believe that right. I mean why would they let her in, and not them, when they obviously had much more experience in stopping the baddies than she did . . . or so they believed. She could even convince Dumbledore to go along with her. So technically she really didn't have to say anything. She began to feel a little smug about that. Maybe she wouldn't tell them anything after all. And say poo to them. That's right poo.

* * *

Note: Sorry about not updating sooner. I've just been really tired lately and my brains turned to jelly. Can't really think when you've got jelly brains. I promise I'll try to go faster. Hopefully the sluggishness fades quickly. :)

Oh, and for those who still don't get the Goldilocks thing, the Twins overheard Sirius and Remus, and some of the Order members call her Goldilocks in the meeting. It's in chapter eight. Hope that helps. :)


	27. Chapter 27

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

She was drugging them. Yep that had to be it. That's why Fred and George were a whole lot nicer to Buffy the next day. Saying hello and waving. Even sitting with her for a few minutes during lunch. Talking and laughing the occasional laugh. And they realized that surreal was becoming too common an emotion these days.

It was brief but very weird. She was not unaware of that fact. There she was having a nice normal lunch with Neville and Susie when the Twins suddenly plopped down beside her. Bantering their usual confusing banter, one in which Buffy was able to untangle thanks to the many in people in her life who tended to have languages of their own. They joked, traded teasing insults, did the normal diddy and then they were gone. It took her a few minutes to realize what had just happened. Neville had thrown her a questioning look and Buffy could only answer it with a shrug that said she had absolutely no idea. Which was in fact true. Guess some things really do change overnight. If it involves getting caught in a compromising situation, sharing secret information by force, and being blackmailed. If that doesn't bring people together than what does.

The end of lunch was signaled. Causing most of the students to rush out and head toward their next class. Except for a small few who were a little hesitant, and not to mention worried, for their next lesson. Apprehension seemed to fill the air as the group walked down toward the Forbidden Forest for Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid was back now, and in charge. In charge of what was the problem.

Both Harry and Buffy looked around for Umbridge. Expecting to find the hateful woman off to the side with her irritating clipboard in hand, and her cringe inducing 'hem hem''s. But she was nowhere in sight, which should've been a load off, except that she tended to pop up when you would least expect it. Unwelcomed and unwanted. Kinda like Freddy Krueger.

"We're workin' in here today!" Hagrid boomed out to the class, indicating to the dense woods behind him. His face still suspiciously bruised and bloodied. Which had the Trio wondering why they hadn't healed yet, or if maybe they were new ones, causing them to be even more uneasy. "Bit more sheltered! Anyway, they prefer the dark."

"What prefers the dark?" Malfoy said to Crabbe and Goyle, and Buffy couldn't help the amusing smile lifting her lips when she picked up his nervous tone. A smile she forced herself not to fully spread because he was her friend, no matter how much of a chicken he was. "What did he say prefers the dark? Did you hear?"

Standing next to Neville, Buffy could see Harry standing feet away with a pleased tiny smirk on his lips. Which meant he had also picked up on Draco's discomfort. Those two. If they were the last two people on Earth they'd hate each other. Would probably even compete over who would die first. If they hadn't already killed each other that is.

"Ready?" Hagrid asked cheerily. Adjusting what looked like to be half a dead cow on his shoulder. Oh yeah, no worries there. "Right, well, I've bin savin' a trip inter the Forest fer yer fifth year. Thought we'd go an' see these creatures in their natural habitat. Now, what we're studyin' today is pretty rare, I reckon I'm probably the on'y person in Britain who's managed ter train 'em."

"And you're sure they're trained are you?" Malfoy said, panic in his voice. "Only it wouldn't be the first time you'd brought wildlife to class, would it?"

"Course they're trained," Hagrid scowled.

"So what happened to your face then?" he demanded.

Buffy rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in impatience. Something Draco caught out of the corner of his sight. He could almost hear her voice as though she were standing beside him. Scolding and irritated, 'stop being such a baby.' And he nearly pouted before he caught himself.

"Mind yer own business!" Hagrid responded angrily. "Now, if yeh've finished askin' stupid questions, follow me."

He turned around sharply and walked into the Forest. With no one willing to follow. Well except one.

When she noticed that everyone's feet seemed to be in the non-working capacity she rolled her eyes, again, and followed Hagrid. It's not like she's never been in the wherever he was heading to, in there before. What was the big deal? Wimps.

Neville was a little surprised that Buffy willingly followed Hagrid soon after. But then again so was the rest of the class. The majority believed she was either very brave, or very stupid. Either way Buffy was going in for one big surprise. After all she had left before Hagrid had become the professor of Care of Magical Creatures. And all the scary and dangerous surprises that came after that.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were the next ones to step into the Forest. Ending up leading the rest of the wary class. They were several feet away from Buffy and Hagrid, who were now walking side by side. And looking like they were sharing a very quiet conversation. The Trio glanced at each other in confusion. Since when had Buffy and Hagrid been so chummy.

"So how is he?" Buffy asked as lowly as possible, but loud enough so Hagrid could still hear her.

"He's alright'. Bin gettin' restless though," he whispered, knowing Buffy could hear him just fine. Though the first time he tried to 'whisper' to her, had caused his voice to echo in the Forest at night. It took some practice but he got there.

"Doesn't surprise me," she replied. "Being tide up like that. It's gotta be frustrating for him."

"It is, but he's gettin' better," he said pleasantly. "Compared to how he was befer. Especially when yeh come around. I think he kind o' fancies yeh now." He winked at her and smiled broadly, even more so at Buffy's stunned look. "He actually listens to me when he knows yer comin'. Behaves calmly an' everythin'."

"Well that's good right?" she said. "I mean in a weird and strangely flattering way. He's at least somewhat behaved."

"It's a start, but as yeh can see," he told her, then indicated to his still wounded face. "It's still gonna take some time."

Buffy nodded as they arrived to wherever it was Hagrid had been leading. It was definitely a dark spot in the Forest. Where the trees stood so close together that no snow fell on the ground, and very rare light seeped through from the sides.

She moved off to one side as Hagrid dropped the dead animal he had been carrying to the ground with a heavy grunt. The rest of the students arriving. Their frightened eyes moving through the trees waiting for something to pop out.

"Hey," she greeted, as Neville came to stand beside her again. "What took you so long?"

Neville rolled his eyes and looked at her as though it were obvious. Guess all those stories he had told her about third and fourth year in Hagrid's class hadn't made an impression after all.

"Gather roun', gather roun'," Hagrid encouraged, cutting off any current conversation. "Now, they'll be attracted by the smell o' the meat but I'm goin' ter give 'em a call anyway, cause they'll like ter now it's me."

That was not really something they wanted to hear. Nothing nice and friendly ever gets attracted by the smell of fresh meat.

Hagrid cupped his hands over his mouth and gave a loud shrieking cry that echoed through the trees. Which should've been funny except for the freezing fear most of the students were experiencing. Hagrid waited, and then gave the bird like cry one more try.

It was like waiting for your tooth to be pulled. You know it's coming, you know it's gonna be scary, and yet for some reason the experience didn't seem any less terrifying.

A pair of blank, white, shiny eyes made their way through the dense of the Forest. Hovering in the darkness. And then a dragon-like face soon emerged from the trees. Pulling its large, skeletal body toward them. Leathery wings decorating the sides of its black body. Its glossy eyes swept over the class, it's tail swishing back and forth. Then it moved toward the food, and with its pointed teeth it began to tear into the flesh.

They were real. Here was the proof. These creatures weren't just a figment of his over exhausted imagination. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He thought he was going mad. Seeing them pulling the carriages on the first day of term, then flying in the air. But as he looked around he could see confused faces looking for something that apparently wasn't there. Even Ron looked lost. They were real right? Hagrid was looking at them, had called for them in fact, so he knew he wasn't the only one to see them. So why couldn't anybody else?

"Oh, an' here comes another one!" Hagrid announced proudly, and sure enough another one emerged from the Forest to join the feast. "Now . . . put yer hands up, who can see 'em?"

Harry immediately raised his hand, then Neville, a boy from Slytherin behind Goyle did as well, and finally Buffy. Harry was a little surprised by that. Buffy could see them. He didn't know why but he found that to be a little unexpected.

"Yeah . . . yeah, I know you'd be able ter Harry," he said seriously. He passed his eyes over Buffy, but didn't comment. He wasn't supposed to know why she could, he told himself, but was a little saddened nonetheless at her reasons why. "An' you too, Neville, eh? An'-"

"Excuse me," Malfoy interrupted sneeringly. "But what exactly are we supposed to be seeing?"

Hagrid didn't say anything as he pointed toward the dead cow. Strips of flesh were being stripped off by something unseen and disappearing into nothingness. There were gasps, squeals and some of them even looked a little green.

"What's doing it?" Parvati squimished.

"What's eating it?" Lavender squeaked, retreating with Parvati to a nearby tree.

"Thestrals," Hagrid said proudly, yes indeedy.

Harry heard Hermione give a comprehensive 'oh!' beside him. Her eyes on the slowly disappearing cow.

"Hogwarts has got a whole heard of 'em in here. Now who can tell me-"

"But they're really, really unlucky," Parvati pointed out in alarm. "They're supposed to bring all sorts of horrible misfortune on people who see them. Professor Trelawney told me once--"

"No, no, no," Hagrid chuckled. "Tha's jus' superstition, that is, they aren' unlucky, they're dead clever an' useful! Course, this lot don' get a lot o' work, it's mainly jus' pullin' the school carriages unless Dumbledore's takin' a long journey an' don' want ter Apparate- an' here's another couple look . . . "

Two more came gracefully out of the trees. But they both didn't head straight for the dead animal. Instead one of them paused almost in indecisiveness and then slowly walked over to a transfixed Buffy.

They felt . . . familiar. She's never seen them before that was for sure. She'd definitely remember seeing something like them. They were hauntingly beautiful in a way. In a weird creepy way. Without knowing what she was doing, she reached out her hand and slowly the Thestral walked over to it. Hesitantly sniffing it. Taking a step back it looked at her, analyzing her, with her hand still stretched in the air. Moving forward again the Thestral sniffed her hand one more time and then, finally, it nuzzled her palm.

Hagrid, Neville, Harry and Theodore, the boy from Slytherin, looked on in speechless surprise. The picture was almost serene. Buffy completely unaware as she petted the Thestral who seemed to have taken a shining to her. Her golden blonde hair and light complexion in stark contrast with the Thestral's pitch black leathery skin.

The other creatures had stopped feasting on their meal. Their white eyes looking at the image as well. Their heads cocked to the side as they tried to understand the strange sense of familiarity they were getting from the strange girl. The urge to be petted as well.

"Righ'," Hagrid coughed loudly, firmly ending the spell. The Thestral moved away from Buffy and toward the rest of his kind. All of them returning to their meal, but keeping on occasional eye on the girl.

Buffy felt herself snap out of her fixation, and looking around she saw the questioning looks of Harry, Neville, Theodore, and even Hagrid. And when everything came back she realized even she had no idea of had just happened. It was almost like a dream. Distant and surreal.

"Now, who can tell me why some o' yeh can see 'em an' some o' yeh can'?" he asked, giving Buffy the occasional curious eye.

Hermione shot up her hand as Harry still kept his eyes on Buffy. The scene imprinted in his mind. Unaware that Draco was watching him, not liking the look he was giving Buffy. Actually, not liking, was putting it mildly.

"The only people who can see Thestrals, are people who have seen death," Hermione replied knowledgeably.

The answer didn't make things any better. Not only were Neville, Harry and Theodore taken aback by the answer, but were even more curious as to the way the Thestrals had acted toward Buffy. Which she seemed to realize when she felt the stares. Of course, freakishness was just in her nature wasn't it.

"Tha's exactly right," Hagrid somberly said. "Ten points ter Gryffindor. Now, Thestrals--"

"Hem, hem."

It was like nails on a blackboard. Against a megaphone. During a migraine. While on the flu.

Umbridge was standing a few feet away from Harry. Dressed in her green hat and cloak again, Buffy half-expected her to ribbet.

"Oh hello!" Hagrid greeted happily, he'll soon grow to regret that.

"You received the note I sent to your cabin this morning?" she asked slowly like she were talking to someone who didn't understand English. Clutching the clipboard tightly against her. "Telling you that I would be inspecting your lesson?"

"Oh, yeah," Hagrid nodded. "Glad yeh foun' the place all righ'! Well, as you can see - or I dunno- can yeh? We're doin' Thestrals today--"

"I'm sorry? What did you say?" she asked, cupping her hand over her ear.

"Er-Thestrals!" he nearly shouted. "Big-er-winged horses, yeh know!"

Hagrid had flapped his arms in the air to make his point. Which caused Umbridge to raise her eyebrows, and then to mutter as she wrote down on her clipboard. "Has . . . to . . . resort . . . to . . . crude . . . sign . . . language."

"Well . . . anyway," Hagrid went back to his lesson, a little flustered. "What was I sayin'?"

"Appears . . . to . . . have . . . short . . . term . . . memory."

"Oh, yeah," he ploughed on though slightly uneasy. "Yeah, I was gonna tell yeh, how come we got a herd. Yeah, so, we started with a male an' five females. This one," he paused as he patted the first horse that had come out of the trees. "Name o' Tenebrus, he's my special favorite, firs' one born here in the Forest--"

"Are you aware that the Ministry has classified Thestrals as dangerous?" Umbridge interrupted loudly and uncaring of it.

"Thestrals aren' dangerous! All righ', they might take a bit outta yeh if yeh really annoy 'em--"

"Shows . . . signs . . . of . . . pleasure . . . at . . . idea . . . of . . . violence," she ignored him as she wrote on her little clipboard.

Buffy was clenching her fist so tightly at her sides she was almost positive she was gonna break the skin. Not to mention her teeth, as she clenched her jaw so tightly to keep herself from getting violent. Which is what kids? A bad thing . . . or so she kept trying to convince herself.

"No-come on!" Hagrid anxiously exclaimed. "I mean, a dog'll bite yeh if yeh bait it, won' it- Thestrals have jus' got a bad reputation because o' the death thing- people used ter think they were bad omens, didn' they? Jus' didn' understand did they?"

Umbridge ignored him again as she wrote down on her clipboard, and after taking her sweet little time she looked up to Hagrid.

"Please continue teaching. I am going to take a walk," she said very slowly. Miming the action and every other action she every so slowly told him. "Among the students and ask them questions."

"You hag, you evil hag!" Hermione muttered underneath her breath with tears of anger gathering in her eyes. "I know what you're doing, you awful, twisted, vicious . . . "

Buffy watched as Umbridge made her way over to the Slytherins. Her favorites no doubt. She waited until she caught Draco's eye, and when she did she raised an eyebrow in warning. He smirked in mischief and she didn't need to be told that he was going to cause trouble.

"Erm . . . anyway," Hagrid went on. "So- Thestrals. Yeah. Well, there's loads o' good stuff about 'em . . . "

"Do you find that you are able to understand Professor Hagrid when he talks?" Umbridge asked Pansy.

"No . . . because . . . well . . . it sounds . . . like grunting a lot of the time," she answered amidst her fit of giggles.

Hagrid watched as Umbridge scribbled down on her notes and tried to forget Pansy's uneasy reply.

"Er . . . yeah . . . good stuff about' Thestrals," he still braved on. "Well, once they're tamed, like this lot, yeh'll never be lost again. 'Mazin' sense o' direction, just tell 'em were yeh want to go--"

"Assuming they can understand you of course," Malfoy shouted causing Pansy to giggle even louder.

Buffy was sure her hand was bleeding now. She could feel her face becoming hot and her blood pumping in her ears. And what angered her even more was that Toad Face bitc-woman smiling at their response. As though they were being polite. It was . . . it was . . . UGH!

Professor Umbridge turned her beady little eyes toward Neville. And Buffy knew this was not good for her temper.

"You can see Thestrals, Longbottom, can you?" she asked, nearly demanded.

"Like you care," Buffy mumbled, before Neville could speak.

"I'm sorry Ms. Summers what was that?" she asked almost cheerily.

The class held its breath. They knew where this was going. Even Hagrid looked slightly nervous.

Lifting her eyes from the ground, Buffy coldly moved them to Umbridge. And for a second past her shoulder when she saw Draco's nervous look and the slight shaking of his head. Telling her to stop before she did anything stupid. Too late.

"What was what?" Buffy asked calmly, which was no easy thing to do.

"What you just said?"

"When I asked what was what?"

Umbridge clutched the clipboard even tighter, as she too tried to hold her control.

"No, dear, before that," she smiled.

"Sorry Professor but I have no idea what you're talking about," she replied innocently.

"Yes . . . well." Umbridge cleared her throat and pursed her lips. "I seem to recall that you too can see Thestrals."

Buffy stood there quietly with a blank expression on her face.

"Aren't you going to answer my question Ms. Summers?" she nearly snapped.

"Well, to be honest, it wasn't really a question. So, I didn't know I was supposed to answer," she replied.

Umbridge was almost shaking with restrained anger by now.

"Right, well, can you see them?"

"Yes."

"Who did you see die?"

Everyone was still frozen as they watched them. Hagrid, however, snapped out of it as soon as he heard the question. Panic evident in his eyes as he feared for Buffy's secret.

"With all do respect Professor," she firmly and politely responded. "I don't really believe that's any of your business."

There was a collective gasp. Jaws dropped and shock was everywhere. Pansy however was smiling like Christmas had come early. Draco had a hand over his face in upset anger. And Harry was panicked, knowing where this was headed.

"I'm sorry Ms. Summers what was that?" Umbridge asked, half of her in shock the other half in joy.

"I believe death is something private, and if I don't feel like sharing than I don't believe I have to," she explained.

She had a point. A very good point. If she didn't want to share something that should be considered private it was completely fair. But Umbridge didn't believe in fair. She believed in obedience.

"Ms. Summers you are a student at Hogwarts. And _I_ am the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts. It is my job to see that everyone receives the best education. And for that to occur I must evaluate everyone from the staff to the students. To find the _problem_ areas, and see that they are taken care of. After all the Minister has only appointed me to this position because he cares deeply about Hogwarts and the education of its students."

It sounded like a well-rehearsed speech. Too crisp and too clean. Like she knew she would be using it more than once.

"I don't see how my personal business has anything to do with your evaluation," she said, some of her anger seeping through. "I mean, if you were doing your job right. It wouldn't matter."

"Are you implying that I don't know how to do my job?" she demanded indignantly.

"I'm not implying anything," she said. "I just don't see how my private business is any of your's or the Minister's. I'm pretty sure he has more important things to worry about. Decisions to be made, things to settle, _situations_ to control. I mean, he must be up to his neck in things to not care about. Much less the private lives of his students. Their dreams. Their fears. Their protection. Their credibility--"

"That is enough Ms. Summers," she crisply ordered.

"The refusal to see the real truth and discrediting those who do--"

"Ms. Summers that is enough!"

She was giving her an out. She should've stop right there. But when bottled up anger had a chance to escape, it doesn't leak out. It explodes.

"The fact that they would hide behind someone who considers torturing students a fun little past time. And demeans others in every way they can just so they could feel superior. Making others feel like nothing because that's the only way they could feel important--"

"Detention, Ms. Summers," Umbridge loudly cut her off. "Tonight. My office. Five o'clock."

No one moved. They were surprised they were still breathing. The eyes of everyone around darted between the two. From Umbridge's now smug and content face to Buffy's increasingly calmed one.

She could still feel her blood boiling. The oxygen trying to breathe hard out of her. But she wasn't going to show it. She knew it was coming. Had walked right into it. Heck had even asked for it. And the truth was she didn't really care. She may have gotten detention, but some part of it was worth it. And if Umbridge hadn't had stopped her it would've been really worth it.

"I'm looking forward to it Professor," Buffy smiled sweetly.

* * *

Note: Brain still a little sluggish, don't know what's happening there, must be the heat. Anyway hope you enjoyed the chapter. Reviews will help to answer that question, and I just wanted to apologize for not answering some of the reviews personally, which I love to do by the way, but since I'm not feeling well it's a little hard keeping my focus.

Oh, and I remembered someone asking if Umbridge reads Buffy's letters, and the answer is no. She reads Harry's because she finds him as a threat. Buffy however is just a thorn in her lily pad :)


	28. Chapter 28

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

She had been getting stares since the end of Magical Creatures. Which was really no surprise. There were the whispers and the usual reverted gazes when she looked their way. The questioning eyes and skirt arounds. The only shocker were some of the praised looks she was receiving. That was definitely weird.

"You shouldn't 've said anything," Neville had whispered to her during Herbology.

"Well between you and me," Buffy whispered back. "I think all of us haven't said anything for way to long."

Neville didn't respond as he turned his attention back to Professor Sprout, who continued in her explanation on the handling of Fanged Geranium. He carefully took notes and gave a steady eye as she handled the toothy plant. Making sure he had written all the information down, he turned back to Buffy.

"You know what happens during detention don't you?" he asked, worry seeping into his tone.

"Yeah I know," she answered, subconsciously rubbing the back of her hand, and then pushing them to her sides when she realized what she was doing. "Who knows, maybe it won't be so bad. I always did have a high tolerance for pain."

Neville didn't seem so convinced as he gave a resigning sigh, a long worried look and then turned his attention back to the lesson. It was like a stone settled in her chest at his concern. Hoping to lighten the mood she gently shoved her shoulder into his arm until he looked her away.

"You gotta admit. That look on her face. Totally priceless," she winked.

The corners of his mouth twitched up and Buffy bumped his arm again when she saw the smile on his face. Now that was definitely better.

Half an hour later as she walked down the hall after class, she had no idea how she found herself alone. One minute Neville was next to her, the next he had mumbled something and was gone. She was pretty sure she heard the word toilet in there somewhere, or maybe that's just what she figured. Either way she was alone as she made her way toward the Great Hall to hopefully chow something down before her detention. Idly watching a pair of students that had walked right by her– right before she was yanked into a room.

Buffy let herself be pushed in further as her attacker closed the door behind him. Adjusting the strap of her bag as she waited calmly for what was coming next.

"Have you gone completely out of your mind?!" Draco nearly shouted. "What was going on that thick head of yours?! What were you thinking?!"

Woah, deja vu.

"Hi Draco, how are you? Me, I'm fine," she smiled. Irritating him even further.

"Buffy this is serious," he told her, his face hard and his jaw set. "Don't you know what Umbridge does to the students who serve detention with her?"

"Oh you mean that little thing where she makes them carve into their own hands like a Thanksgiving Day turkey?"

"A what?"

"Never mind."

She really needed Xander around. This place was really bad for her witty quips.

"Buffy," he said in exasperation.

"Relax Draco," she said soothingly. "I know exactly what Little Miss Sadist considers appropriate punishment."

"Than explain to me, because I'm having a very difficult time trying to understand, why you couldn't just stay quiet?" he asked.

"Boredom?" she perkingly said.

"Buffy . . . "

"Look what I said deserved to be said. She was getting way outta hand, and she was getting away with it," she firmly explained. "Someone needed to put her in her place."

"You do know who she works for?" he tried to make her understand how serious it was. "Who she'll be reporting this to?"

"So? What are they gonna do kick me out of school for having an opinion? Didn't realize I was supposed to fall in line like a good little soldier," she said. "Besides Dumbledore's the one who's in charge. Not her."

He placed his hands on his hips as he tried to calm himself down. She just didn't understand. It didn't matter that Dumbledore was the Headmaster, Umbridge's power went further than Buffy could understand. Even if she couldn't expel Buffy, she could make her life miserable. And there was nothing even he could do to stop it.

"Just be careful," he said. "Don't do anything that would cause you to be in even more trouble."

"Course," she smiled. "You know me."

"I know. That's why I'm saying it."

Buffy narrowed her eyes until a smile appeared on his face.

"Anyway," she drawled. "Does this mean I can ask you to stop being her lap dog?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm not her lap dog," he indignantly stated. "I'm her favorite."

"Which means she's probably given you special privileges hasn't she?"

"A few," he shrugged.

She crossed her arms and thought over Draco's power and attention driven life. He'll always go for the goal, no matter the price, thanks in large part to his power hungry father. That man didn't deserve Draco, or any child for that matter.

"Just promise me you won't let your new found advantages let that head of yours get any bigger."

A devilish smile appeared on his lips and Buffy knew it was no use.

"I don't even know why I try," she muttered.

"It's a puzzle to me too," he said.

She gave a short laugh and placed her hands lazily on his hips.

"All right," she said. "I'll promise to try and behave myself."

"Good."

"But if she starts pushin' my buttons all bets are off."

He wasn't to going to win this. But when did he ever win anything when Buffy's stubbornness came into play.

"Fair enough," he conceded.

Buffy shook her head and gave another laugh. It was strange having Draco be the one to tell her to behave. Bizarro World was a lot closer than she would've ever imagined.

"You should probably go first," Buffy told him. "Pansy's probably trying to track you down right about now."

A loud groan escaped his throat and Buffy chuckled again.

"You know one of these days you're gonna have to stand up to daddy," she said.

"Easier said than done," he nearly mumbled.

Buffy felt a pang of sympathy for him again, it wasn't fair how much pressure Lucius put on him. No matter what he did, Draco always felt he was never enough.

"All right, guess we'll talk later then," he nodded. "You'll tell me everything?"

"You got it," she smiled.

With a smile of his own and one last concerned look, Draco walked out of the room. And then she waited. Just until enough passed so she could leave without being too suspicious. Satisfied with four minutes she walked out, and right into someone she was hoping to find.

"Theodore," she said, putting on her friendly smile and closing the door behind her.

"Hey Buffy," he flatly greeted.

She had always like Theodore. He was the quintessential loner type. Kept to himself, spoke when spoken to, but never went out of his way to make conversation. He wasn't rude, a little mean to other houses but who in Slytherin wasn't. He was nice, in a serious kind of way. Kinda like Oz.

"Listen I was wondering if you could-- I mean it's not like you really owe me anything, but it would be such a huge favor to me, and I'd be grateful for like ever, if maybe you wouldn't--"

"Tell anybody about you and the Thestrals," he finished off. A tiny amused smirk lifting his lips at her rambling.

"Yeah," she smiled shyly.

"Don't worry about it," he said.

"Really?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"Thanks that's . . . thanks," she smiled gratefully.

"It's nothing," he shrugged off.

Buffy looked at him, really looked at him. He was taller, but then again who wasn't now. His black hair was a little shaggy, in the careless kind of way that very few guys could pull off. His eyes had grown an even darker green and she realized, he was actually kind of cute.

"Uh . . . " she managed to stutter out. Her cheeks pinker from embarrassment when she realized how long she had been staring. "How, uh, how've you been?"

No Buffy that wasn't dorky at all, she mentally cringed. What was the matter with her? This was Theodore. Theodore who she had bumped into once in the middle night during first year when they both went into the common room to retrieve their forgotten bags and he saw her in her pretty pink princess pajamas. Theodore who had once put Draco in his place when he had gotten out of hand with his arrogance and began ordering the Slytherins around, gaining respect from near everybody. Theodore who had secretly helped her study during their second year because she was falling way behind on her studies and didn't want anybody to know because Buffy was not one to show weakness in any capacity. Theodore who was the skinny kid with very little baby fat in the wrong places. But as it turns out, that baby fat was finally slipping away to all the right places and so was everything else.

"The same," he answered her.

"Good thing? Bad thing?"

"It's more of a whatever thing," he smiled.

"Theodore Nott," she said in a warm nostalgic tone. "Never really change do you?"

"Change is overrated."

Buffy grinned widely and shyly glanced away for a second. She was almost positive her entire face was red by now.

"I should really be going," she said. "Places to be. People to hate. Skin to mutilate."

"Right, detention with Umbridge," he nodded. "I can't believe you said those things to her."

"Yeah well what can I say? I got issues."

"I remember," he teased.

Her eyes went wide and she smiled. "Gee thanks."

He gave a heavy innocent shrug before throwing her that smirk that Buffy remembered so well.

"I really should get going," she repeated. "But it was nice-- kinda sorta catching up. It's been a while."

Theodore gave a lazy nod in agreement. His deep green eyes firmly fixated on her face, noticing how she had only gotten prettier over the years.

"Guess I'll just be seein' you around," she continued when he still hadn't said anything. Which should've been unnerving if it weren't for the fact that she was used to his quiet behavior.

"Yeah," he responded.

Buffy smiled shyly one last time before she slowly moved away from him. A few steps down she looked over her shoulder and felt her face grow hot again when she saw Theodore still standing there, looking at her as she walked away. Boy was she in trouble.

Fear. That's what she should've been feeling. She was about to go in and actually cut into her own skin. Fear would've been the appropriate emotion. But when did Buffy ever follow propriety. Taking a deep breath to steel her angry emotions she knocked on the door, and when she heard Umbridge's friendly 'come in' she almost lost it. Steeling her nerves and breathing deeply once more, Buffy prayed that Umbridge would behave herself because let's face it, she wasn't going to.

"Good evening Professor," Buffy greeted cheerily when she stepped into the room.

"Good evening Ms. Summers," Umbridge answered back in the same friendly voice.

And the Oscar goes to . . .

"Why don't you take a seat," Professor Umbridge politely offered.

Shutting the door behind her, Buffy calmly walked over to the desk and chair that had been obviously setup for her benefit. Placing down her bag she waited, behaving as though she was in the middle of a tea party.

"You're going to be doing lines for me today Ms. Summers," she directed. Smugness, satisfaction and every other pleasured emotion flitted over her face. This woman had some serious issues.

"What will I be writing?"

"I will not be disobedient and will learn my proper place," she said sweetly.

Extra long sentence, extra long cuts. She was sure milking it for all it was worth.

Literally biting her tongue Buffy waited for the special quill she had heard so much about. The evil-feathered thing that Umbridge was now holding in her hand with a wide smile on her face.

Everything was going smoothly. Buffy wasn't retorting. She was actually well behaved. But Umbridge had been fooled by her polite behavior before and had learned to keep her guard up no matter what.

Buffy kept her eyes on Umbridge as she placed the black quill right beside her. Like she had just given her a pudding.

"You may begin," she instructed, walking back to stand beside her desk.

Buffy didn't move. Her hands were clasped over the desk and her eyes still on the professor.

"Is there a problem?" Umbridge asked.

"I'm not using that quill," Buffy said evenly.

There it was. The rebel she had been expecting.

"Are you refusing to serve your detention Ms. Summers?"

"No. I'm willing to do my lines, I'm just not using that quill," she replied. "I have a perfectly good quill of my own that I'd be more than happy to use."

"I'm sure you do," Umbridge said through clenched teeth. "But I'd rather you use this one." I'll bet.

"Why can't I use my own?"

Buffy wanted to hear her say it. Explain why her quill was so special.

"Because this one is much more effective in letting the message sink in."

"Really? How?"

Umbridge knew what she was trying to do and she wasn't going to win. The hands clasped in front of her were squeezing each other so tightly that her nails were being pushed into her skin. Leaving, what she was sure of, little half moon marks on the back of her hand. But Professor Umbridge continued to smile in her Splenda ways.

"Now, dear, I don't understand why you just don't use my quill," she said sweetly.

"Well, I don't understand why I can't use mine," she innocently replied. "It works the same as yours. It has the same pointy end that I can dip into the ink and everything."

"Ah, well see that's the thing. I seem to have run out of ink so unfortunately you won't be able to write with your own," she said, giving that tiny little laugh that made your skin crawl.

"You don't have any ink?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Than how does yours work?"

Her blood pressure was going up. She was sure of it. More so since Buffy sat there calm and collected as though she were doing nothing wrong. Like a five year old with an endless amount of questions.

"It's a special quill. It provides its own ink," she replied.

"I see," she nodded as though mulling it over. Then, suddenly, she perked up. "I just remembered I brought my own ink. Maybe I can use that."

Buffy could actually see her trying to calm her anger. Umbridge was breathing heavier, her lips had pressed into a firm line, and her nose was flaring.

"No, I'm afraid that's not possible," she clenched.

"Why?" she asked, her voice light.

"Because your ink will not do," she crisply said.

"Why?"

"Ms. Summers . . . " she drawled out in fury. Hoping to keep her tongue from lashing.

"Yes?"

It didn't help her anger when she saw Buffy sitting there with that blank expression that she began to loathe. And then that was it. No more games. Striding over to the desk Umbridge placed both hands on the surface and sternly looked into Buffy's face.

"Now you listen to me Ms. Summers. You will pick up that quill. You will write your lines. And you will do as I say. You are the student. And I am the professor. And you will learn your place in my school. Are we clear?" she lowly ordered. Her rage making her words sound sharper.

"No, we're not," she replied defiantly. "I want to know why your quill is the only I can use. Other than the fact that it's because you say so. The way I see it, as long as I write my lines what does it really matter. I mean that is the real purpose of my detention isn't it?"

She was losing the upper hand. Buffy Summers seemed to thwart every block she created. There was only one way to play it now. Professor Umbridge wasn't a stranger to playing dirty. Had almost perfected the art in fact. As long as it got results, what did it matter.

"I've been reviewing Professor Hagrid's evaluation," she announced smiling. A smile that grew when a tiny emotional flicker passed over Buffy's face. "I've never seen a professor with such low marks. Such a shame really. But I'm quite sure you understand what that means for his position here at Hogwarts. And with the fear he creates in the students with all those dangerous creatures he insists on bringing to their attention. I mean one terrified letter to the Minister from one Miss Buffy Summers and I'm sure that letter, combined with his extremely low evaluation, and Professor Rubeus Hagrid will be out of here sooner than all of us expected."

"You wouldn't," Buffy clenched. Her eyes seeing nothing but red.

Professor Umbridge's smile grew even wider. Nearly splitting her toad face in half. Satisfaction filling her black heart.

"I suggest you start writing your lines Ms. Summers," she said, her smug face nearly glowing as she took a seat behind her desk.

The blood screamed in her ears. The room shrinking around her. One flick of her wrist and it would be over. She was beyond tempted, and the only thing saving Umbridge's life right now was the fact that Buffy wouldn't put her mother through any kind of mess again. So she restrained herself. A feat she wasn't even aware she was capable of.

With a shaky hand Buffy reached over to the quill. It's soft feathers burning against her skin as it settled in her hand. Her grasp so tight she was sure she would break it in half. But knowing Umbridge she'd probably fix it and make her start over each time.

She hovered the pointy end over the parchment for a second. Half expecting to see a droplet of someone else's blood spill from the last time it had been used. Thinking of her mother, of Hagrid, she forced the tip to touch paper. And slowly Buffy began to write.

_I will not be disobedient and will learn my proper place._

The words were slowly appearing on her skin. The sentence so long that letters began to overlap each other. Creating even more pain.

There wasn't a flicker. Not a cringe or a gasp. Buffy's face remained neutral, and her posture relaxed. Even her left hand remained eased no matter how many times fresh letters were cut into it. This was not what Umbridge had planned.

Surpass the pain, Giles' voice echoed in her mind. And he believed she never listened to his lessons. She did, had no other choice when he kept repeating it over and over again. They came in handy though. Especially today. It was excruciating pain. Cut over cut over cut. Her breathing was shakier, her lips were pressed together firmer, her left hand was tense, and tiny gasps escaped her. But they were all virtually undetectable. She knew this was coming and had prepared for it. She couldn't stop her reactions but she could make them less noticeable. Making it seem as though torturing her hand was a walk in the park.

Hours went by. How many she wasn't so sure of. But she knew it was well past curfew, it had to be. And still it continued.

"Come here," Umbridge finally spoke.

Cringing at the order, Buffy calmly put down her quill. Her eyes passing over the parchment that was now tainted with her blood, as she rose from her seat and slowly walked over to her. Not once looking down at her own hand or even touching it, knowing it would give the woman some sort of twisted satisfaction by doing so.

"Your hand," she said.

Slowly, Buffy raised it, the searing pain now gone.

Professor Umbridge took the small hand into her own. Her eyes widening in disbelief at the smooth unblemished skin. No scar, no open wound, not even a trace of redness. It was almost as though the past hours had never occurred.

"Something wrong Professor?" Buffy asked.

Her beady eyes looked up. Her stubby fingered hand releasing Buffy's. There was something, she was sure of it. There were the signs of course, but it couldn't very well be possible. Cornelius would have told her. Wouldn't have kept it a secret, not from her. She knew the stories, heard the legend, but there was never any proof. But Buffy Summers was definitely something else. She was quite sure of that.

"Where had you been leaving before returning back to Hogwarts Ms. Summers?"

"Is that really relevant Professor?" she quickly answered.

Buffy could see the wheels turning inside her head. She was trying to figure something out, and Buffy knew exactly what. And she feared that Umbridge was getting closer to truth. Something Buffy had hoped would never be the case.

She wasn't going to get answers. It was too late to play the guilt card now. Buffy was tired and angry, Umbridge could see it. Which meant any kind of information was not going to be shared tonight. Or any other she realized. But there were always other ways. More reliable people she could count on.

"You may go Ms. Summers."

She was waiting to see if another detention would be added, but Umbridge said nothing. That was not a good sign.

Walking over to the desk, Buffy picked up her bag and eyed the parchment distastefully. Slightly wondering what Umbridge did with them. Probably had a scrapbook filled with parchments spattered with innocent blood. If it were up to her, Buffy would burn them all.

Without a word she exited the office, briskly left the classroom, and it wasn't until she reached the hallway that she let herself breathe. Big, gulping breaths that would stop her from screaming. Karma was a bitch, she knew that, hopefully Umbridge would get to know that as well. And very, very soon.

She was right. It was past curfew. There wasn't a student in a sight or a noise to be heard. Rushing to the tower, she wanted to get some sleep. There was no way she could slay tonight, that was for sure. And hopefully she could sleep her hunger away, seeing as she missed dinner when she had gotten lectured by Draco and then ran into Theodore.

Passing through the portrait hole Buffy walked into the common room. And as she made her way to the stairs she felt it. Something was . . . off. Discreetly passing her eyes over the room she checked to see if anything seemed to be out of place. Finally she found it, and with a quick move she whipped her hand through the air.

* * *

Note: Thank you for all the reviews, there were so many. I looooove that! :) Hopefully that means more reviews for any following chapters :)


	29. Chapter 29

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

It was late. He should be sleeping. He should be not caring. He should be a lot of things, instead he was downstairs waiting. Wondering when she would be back.

The sound of the portrait swinging open surprised him. He had gotten used to the quiet. He watched her as she came into the room, and then as she stopped just before she reached the stairs. Her body completely still and he couldn't help but be a little fascinated by it. A tiny smile lifting the corners of his mouth at his sudden flash of memories.

It was less than an arms length away. The source of her 'it'. She made a move to the stairs again. A footstep to lure a false of security. And then like the trained predator she was she snapped back around.

In the blink of an eye Buffy whipped the cloak off him. The material now hanging off her hand as she looked at him. His hair more rumpled than usual, and his eyes bright with amusement.

"You never did tell me how you were able to do that," Harry smirked.

"Magic," she delicately shrugged.

He smiled a little at that, releasing some of the tension he had been feeling.

Buffy was definitely surprised he was here. More to do with the fact of why. He hadn't exactly made a move to talk to her since his little blowup two months prior. Only giving her the more than occasional look, with hesitant and confused eyes. Almost like he wanted to walk right over and speak to her. Something she wished he would've done time and time again.

They grew into an awkward silence. Neither one really knowing where to go from here. Noticing she still had the cloak in her hands Buffy handed it over to him. Her fingertips slightly brushing against his as he took it.

"Thanks," he smiled, taking the material and bunching it into his hands.

Buffy smiled back and loosely clasped her hands in front of her. Causing Harry to remember what he was doing down here in the first place.

"How's your hand?" he asked, his voice heavy with concern.

Buffy immediately looked down. The thumb of her right hand rubbing the back of her left. Almost as though she could still feel the words that never scarred.

"It's fine," she answered. "No permanent damage done."

When she looked up, she noticed Harry's intense look. His green eyes on her previous source of attention. Noticing her smooth undamaged skin.

"I heal fast," she explained, moving them quickly to her sides.

"Lucky for you," he mumbled as he looked at his own hand. _I must not tell lies_ now permanently etched into his skin.

"Yeah," she murmured. At the sight of his shiny new scar, Buffy wanted to march right back up to Umbridge and cause the kind of pain she only reserved for demons. And in her opinion Umbridge was as close to being one than any person she had ever met. "What are you doing down here?"

Harry snapped his eyes up and settled them on Buffy's face. He scratched the back of his head, shifted from one foot to the other and squeezed the cloak in his hands nervously.

"I was . . . " he cleared his throat. "I was waiting . . . for you."

"You were?" she asked, feeling her heart skip a little beat.

"Yeah I, uh . . . I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Oh," she smiled shyly. Her insides all fuzzy at his obvious concern. "Thanks, that's, um . . . sweet," she stuttered out nervously.

"Yeah," he blushed. "Well I'm not exactly a stranger to Umbridge's detentions."

"Well you are her favorite," she said seriously, before smiling.

"Yeah, but I think I've been bumped down to second," he told her.

"I always knew Hermione was a bad girl at heart."

Harry laughed a little and Buffy felt her shoulders loosen up. Seems like this was going a whole lot better the second time around.

"Buffy."

"Harry."

The clashing of their names caused to them to grin, and some of the nervous jitters to seep back in.

"You go first," she said.

He nodded once, smiled and squeezed the cloak in his hands as he gave a small deep breath.

"I, uh . . . I just wanted to apologize for the last time," he started. "I shouldn't 've yelled at you like that. I didn't mean to I was just--"

"It's okay," she said, giving a tiny smile in understanding. "You were mad. I get that. It's not like you didn't have a reason to be. So, no worries here. We're good."

"We are?" he asked, surprised and glad all rolled into one.

"Yeah."

"Okay," he nodded in relief. "Good."

She smiled and gave a small nod. Quiet sneaking up on them once again, seeing as Buffy was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she forgot she had wanted to say something as well.

"Buffy," he said, catching her wayward attention. "You were going to . . . "

"To say something too, right," she finished off in recollection, smiling in embarrassment of being caught mid-flake. "I, uh, I just wanted to, I mean I was just wondering if . . . "

Why was it so hard to say? Because it was the wrong time to bring it up that's why. He had just asked for her forgiveness, something deep and honest. While she on the other hand, was dipping toward the other end of the pool. And she was little more than wary of his short temper. But what other opportunity did she have.

"Yes?" Harry urged. Wondering what was causing her hesitation.

"I, uh . . . was wondering if maybe," she started again. "You wouldn't tell anybody about what happened with the Thestrals today."

He was taken aback. A stunning blow to his mind, and to his ego. After he put his vulnerability on the line that was all she had to say?

"Is that it?" he asked in a low tone.

That note in his voice was another one of the reasons why she didn't want to say it, and it made her cringe.

"Yeah," she responded. Part of it anyway, but he didn't give her a chance to finish. Because that temper of his was beginning to rear its ugly head.

That was it. That was all she had to say. He felt the burning in his stomach coming back. The 'Buffy Effect' rearing back up.

"Typical," he scoffed.

"What?" she asked in shock.

"You never care about anything else. It's always about Buffy. What Buffy wants. What Buffy needs. Who cares about anybody else right?"

"Excuse you," she said sharply. "What gives you--"

"Here I was actually asking for your apology. Being the bigger person and putting everything else aside, and you! All you care about is if I'll tell anybody about those bloody Thestrals!"

"Oh yeah you're the real big person here," she sarcastically snapped. "Judging me, again! Not even giving me the chance to explain myself!"

"I--"

"Ignoring me for the past two months. Two months! After you yelled at me, when I tried to apologize. To explain. But oh no it was your way, then the highway. What does that say about you Mr. Hot Shot?!"

"Well excuse me for being upset, but as I recall I wasn't the one who turned their back! Who didn't care!" he said, his voice then softening but still filled with anger. "But it's not like I ever mattered right?"

Her chest was heaving from her rush of emotions and restrained anger. His words hitting the wrong cord.

"You thought I didn't care?" she bit out. Her jaw so tight, the words were pushed out between her teeth. "Did you ever think for one second that maybe the world doesn't revolve around you? That maybe the reason why I cut myself off was because something was going on in _my_ life? That maybe I was going through some things that weren't so easy to deal with?"

Harry stood silent, stunned. His eyes quickly moving away from her when the words impacted his mind, making him feel ashamed. Realizing that she had a point, and guilty that he never actually considered the idea that Buffy had a life outside of their friendship. Seeing as he was always the most troubled one between the two. Now that he thought about it, there had to be a reason why she had shut him out. A damn good one by the way she made it sound. And he felt like a selfish idiot for being so blind.

He didn't say anything and that irritated her. Here he went on about her being selfish and uncaring, but what about him. Did he ever think that maybe she was dealing with her own troubled messed up life. No, of course not, because she was snobby little Buffy Summers and her life was perfect. All tiaras and unicorns. It's not like she had to deal with demons and death on a daily basis. Or put her life on the line so the world could keep marching on. No, her life was perfect and bubbled and technicolory. She was freakin' Mary Poppins!

Scoffing loudly Buffy turned away from him and headed for the stairs. She was exhausted and didn't really have the strength to deal with any more issues right now, or to care for that matter. If he was still going to be anal with everything than she'll just deal with it tomorrow. Or maybe make him wait two months before she spoke to him again. See how that feels.

He watched her go and knew he couldn't leave it at that. Even if it was for his own selfish purposes he needed to clear things out. Maybe then they could finally put everything behind them and hopefully start over. Because after having her back, he didn't really want to lose her again.

"Why did you stop writing?"

His sudden question made her freeze. Her foot barely touching the first step when she heard his soft voice. And everything came rushing back.

Because she died that's why. She died and everything was different.

Buffy took a deep breath to push back all the sudden emotions from the memory she always tried to forget. To calm down the storm raging on inside of her that the night kept bringing on.

Harry never realized how much her letters meant. Not until they stopped coming. They started out short and innocent. The friendly pleasantries, and the usual 'how are you?'s, and in Harry's case 'what kind of trouble did you cause today?' Then little by little they grew in volume and in everything else. They grew from just owling, to regular post. Frequently using both at the same time. Seeing as Buffy lacked an owl and Hedwig was getting pretty tired of flying such a long distance time and again. They were never specific, but they held a lot of honest and bare emotions they only shared with each other. When Harry would write he was scared, she would write it would be okay. When she would write she was lonely, he would tell her he was only a letter away. There where never any why's, they didn't really matter. What mattered was that there was someone there many, many miles away who listened. Someone who only cared if you were okay. That's why Harry relied on them, on her. She never bombarded him with questions, didn't judge, she was just there. Ready to listen and to tell him that everything was going to be all right. Then suddenly days, months, would pass and not a single word from her. They had grown so much closer than he could've imagined, and when she took it all away it hurt more than he could have ever thought. He felt betrayed. Alone. Ron and Hermione were there, but it wasn't the same. He couldn't explain it. It was complicated. But then again everything about Buffy was complicated. And to be honest he found it surprising, even now, how close they had unknowingly become. How much he came to care for her.

She didn't know how long she had been quiet. But he didn't say anything, meaning he was still waiting for her reply. She was tired, so very, very tired. The day was taking its toll on her, and boy was it a heavy fine. All she wanted was sleep, forever if she had her way, but she knew she couldn't leave things like this. Not if she wanted a restful night anyway.

"Life," she finally answered tiredly, then turned around to face him. "The hard, messed up, crazy kind." She watched as he nodded slowly in understanding and as his eyes began to tinge with the kind of sorry guilt she was used to seeing in her own. "I never meant to stop writing . . . to stop talking to you . . . but there was just so much going on that I just . . . I lost myself for a while and I let so many things slip away from me. But you need to know that you, your friendship . . . means a lot to me, still does if there's anything left of it . . . and I . . . I never meant to hurt you . . . that's the last thing I wanted to do . . . but everything just got so screwed up, and I . . . " She took a deep breath and when she spoke again she sounded exhausted. "I didn't mean for things to turn out the way they did . . . and for what it's worth Harry . . . I really am sorry."

That was it. That's what she had wanted to say to him before he blew up. He deserved an apology. An explanation. And he would've gotten one sooner if he hadn't been such an ass about it. But at least now he knew.

Turning back around, Buffy walked up the stairs. She had said her apologies, and now it was up to him wether to accept it or not. She was too tired at the moment and she would deal with it tomorrow. All Buffy wished for now was to make it to her soft and fluffy bed before she blacked out.

Harry silently watched her go. The conversation playing itself over in his mind. And he felt like an ass. Leaning back, he rested tiredly against a wall. His eyes burning from lack of sleep. A big yawn tickling the middle of this throat. His shoulders slumping in heaviness. Yep, he had most definitely been an ass.

* * *

Note: Sorry it took me so long to update, but I'm tellin' ya Summer? Not so good for my writing bug :) Anyway, I hope I didn't disappoint anyone with this chapter, it was kinda hard to write. And I know they argued again, but they need to get all their issues out before it can be all sunshine and lollipops. It's just one of the those things ya know :) And I loved my yet again so many reviews. And I hope they'll be more a'comin'. :)


	30. Chapter 30

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

"Team sports? I don't know," Buffy drawled out. "I'm not really into the whole, rah-rah, there's no I in team, bit."

"There's no I in team?" Ginny asked with big wide innocent eyes, causing Buffy to chuckle and shake her head gently as they both continued walking down the hall.

"Come on," Ginny pleaded. "There's no harm in trying out. It could be fun."

"Sorry Gins, but this is your deal. I'm much more of a spectator not a participator," she said. "Besides you're going out for Seeker and direct competition not so good in an early friendship, and given my size I'm not sure Beater will be my strong suit."

"There's nothing wrong with a little friendly competition."

"You say that now. And then one day, given the off chance in hell that I actually tried out and won your oh-so-coveted spot, I'll come to find black beetle parts in my lunch."

"Don't be silly. I would never put beetle parts in your lunch," she replied. "I'd use caterpillars," she grinned widely.

"Yeah, well, as lovely as that sounds," Buffy sarcastically drawled. "Still, no."

"All right," she pouted. "But will you at least come and see me try out."

"Wish I could, but I've got some serious studying to do."

"That's all you ever do," Ginny said pointedly. "You're worse than Hermione. You do know that?"

Buffy snickered. "I don't think anybody can be worse than Hermione."

The girls stopped as they reached the doorway. Ginny dressed comfortably in roomy clothes with a broom in her hands, all set for the Gryffindor tryouts that were being held to replace Fred, George and Harry's still vacant spots. While Buffy, still dressed in her uniform, held onto the bag strap that rested on her shoulder as she tried to casually pry herself away from her current company. Seeing as she had an appointment to meet with a certain snobby, blond Slytherin in a few minutes.

"That's true," Ginny smiled in amusement, right before giving a defeated and nervous sigh. "Will you at least wish me luck?"

"You don't need luck, Ginny. You'll do great. But if it'll make you feel better," Buffy began, then placed a hand on Ginny's upper arm in support and gave a curt nod. "Good luck. Best wishes. Break a leg. May the force be with you. Live long and prosper. Sock it to 'em."

Ginny's eyebrows knitted in confusion. She had absolutely no idea half of what she had just been told meant.

"Uh . . . thanks?"

"You're welcome," Buffy smiled brightly.

With her mind still mildly dazed, Ginny walked off toward the Pitch. Her brain trying hard to figure out her well wishes. May what force be with you? And what does a sock have to do with anything?

Buffy waited a minute before turning back around and heading up to the third floor. Not paying much attention along the way. Reaching the always empty classroom, she pulled the door open without a glance back and walked inside. Waiting it out until her Slytherin buddy graced her with his presence.

His stomach was rumbling. Which was pretty much an ever present feeling. Unfortunately, any thoughts of eating had to be put off seeing as Angelina wanted the whole team down at the Quidditch Pitch for the tryouts. Ginny was going to be there, and at the very least, he could offer her some brotherly support. Walking down the corridor it took Ron a few seconds to realize he had gone the wrong way. His mind of in many wonderful things to eat, causing the stall in his concentration. He was about to turn back around when he saw a familiar blonde heading suspiciously toward a specific door, and seemingly unaware she was being watched. It shouldn't have been strange. It was easy enough. A student going into a classroom, simple right? It should've been, except for the fact that classes were over, the hall was empty and she was going into a room he had never entered since attending school. At least not for lessons anyway. Well that and he didn't trust her. Another set of footsteps caught his attention, and Ron hurried to the opposite end of the sound. Hiding himself behind the corner that connected the two hallways. The footsteps were echoing louder now, and as Ron looked out to see who it was, wasn't he in for a not so fun surprise. With a scowl on his face and anger in his eyes, he watched as Malfoy walked into the very same room Buffy had just entered.

Forgetting all about tryouts, and more shockingly about food, he sneaked up the door and pressed his ear against the wood. Pressing even harder when the faint sounds of a conversation came wafting through.

". . . people are starting to wonder why you only got one detention. And why your hand didn't scar like everyone else's."

"I know. Those never-ending whispers never end. But I just ignore them. It's not like I'm going to spill the truth to the gossip mill."

"And what is the truth?"

"If I tell you, will you promise not to tell anybody else?"

"You know I won't."

"All right, well . . . I'm actually spying for Umbridge and the whole thing during Care of Magical Creatures was a just setup so no one would be onto us."

"So it was all just a ruse?"

"Of course. Did you actually think she would give me, her favorite student, detention? Please, all I did that night was spill the secret beans on my fellow classmates and waited long enough until I could go up to my room so no one would be the wiser."

"Very sneaky."

"It is what I do best."

He knew it. He knew it! She was spying on them and reporting back to the Umbridge. He knew it!

The mild shock and full-blown anger of the not so surprising new information filled every part of Ron's brain. Thus, pushing certain parts out . . . like motor skills. It wasn't until the loud clanging sound reached his ears did he realize he had dropped his Cleansweep.

"What was that?" He heard Buffy ask through the door.

Uh-oh. Quickly picking up his broom, Ron dashed out of there as fast as he could. Not turning back and not stopping until he was sure he reached the Pitch. His lungs begged for him to stop and his legs almost gave up on him, but he didn't notice any of that. The only thing his brain was concentrating on was what Buffy had said. Her confession about what he had known all along. She couldn't be trusted. And now he had proof.

* * *

She wasn't trying to ignore him. Well not intentionally. But it still didn't make him feel any better about it. Harry had been moping, or so Ron had kept pointing out, ever since the night Buffy had put him in his place. And hadn't talked to him since. They passed each other in the halls, saw each other during class and during meals, but things were like they had been before. They didn't talk, didn't say hello, they only played the same 'look-you're-it' game they had been playing for weeks. It would've been easier if he knew where she was in between and after classes. But Buffy seemed to be very good at hiding out wherever she was, and when he did see her it was right before curfew when she would walk straight through the common room and upstairs without a word. Even during the weekends he didn't seem to have a single open opportunity. He had mountains of homework to catch up on and she spent her time with Luna, Ginny, and Neville. And with the end of the term coming up in two days, he would have to wait three weeks to apologize. To say it was frustrating was an understatement.

"Well, we've finally replaced you," Angelina told him dully, after she had entered the Room of Requirement with Katie and Alicia. All three looking very cold and out of breath.

Today was the last meeting of the D.A. before holiday. Harry had thankfully arrived early, which meant he had enough time to clean up some of the Christmas decorations Dobby had obviously set up, before anyone could see them. Obvious by the hundreds of very embarrassing golden baubles that hung from the ceiling, which bore Harry's face along with the words _HAVE A VERY HARRY CHRISTMAS_! He would've never heard the end of it if Fred and George had caught sight of them.

"Replaced me?" Harry asked.

"You and Fred and George," she answered impatiently. "We've got another Seeker!"

"Who?"

"Ginny Weasley," Katie replied, causing Harry to gape at her in surprise.

"Yeah, I know, but she's pretty good," Angelina said. "Nothing on you, of course. But seeing as we can't have you . . . "

Harry bit back a retort. It's not like he asked to be banned from the team. And he was sick of Angelina making him feel worse about it.

"What about the Beaters?" he asked, changing the subject for the benefit of his anger.

"Andrew Kirke, and Jack Sloper," she said unenthusiastically. "Neither of them are brilliant, but compared to the rest of the idiots who turned up . . . "

Students began streaming in. Therefore firmly ending the depressing conversation he had been having with Angelina. When he noticed the arrival of Ron and Hermione, he also noticed the very angry look on Ron's face. He turned questioning eyes to Hermione, who only shrugged and made it clear she had no idea. And unfortunately he didn't have enough time to ask his redheaded friend what was the matter, because the room had filled up with D.A. members ready to learn. Guess it'll have to wait until after the meeting.

They were going over everything they had learned the past weeks. Harry explaining that it wouldn't do any good to learn something new right before going on a three-week break. They practiced their Impediments and their Stunning spells. Harry noticing how much Neville had improved and kept improving. How much they all had been. Making him quite proud of that fact.

"You're getting really good," he congratulated them with a beaming smile an hour later. "When we get back from the holidays we can start doing some of the big stuff – maybe even Patronuses."

An excited murmur went through the crowd. Making some of them wish, for the first time, that the holidays would pass a whole lot quicker.

The room began to clear out. Many 'Happy Christmas''s being said to him along the way, but his attention was currently occupied somewhere else. He looked out for Ron and Hermione, the look on his friend's face still on his mind, but they were nowhere in sight. They must've left, which only caused him to worry more. He was half-heartedly straightening up the mess of cushions, when he caught the sound of sniffling. Turning around he found Cho standing in the middle of the room silently crying, and that's when he realized they were completely alone.

Harry wasn't used to dealings with girls. At least not ones that weren't Hermione, or vaguely Buffy for that matter, so he wasn't exactly sure what to do in this situation.

"Are–are you okay?" he asked feebly.

She shook her head, wiped at her eyes, and gave a hearty sniffle.

"I'm sorry," she said, her words coming out slightly broken. "I suppose . . . it's just . . . learning all this stuff . . . it just makes me . . . wonder wether . . . if he'd known it all . . . he'd still be alive."

His feelings hadn't been as strong as they had been before, but some part of them were still there. And when he heard her mention Cedric his heart sank a little.

"He did know this stuff," he answered heavily. "He was really good at it, or he could never have got to the middle of that maze. But if Voldemort really wants to kill you, you don't stand a chance."

"You survived when you were just a baby," she reminded him quietly.

"Yeah, well, I dunno know why nor does anybody else, so it's nothing to be proud of," he said tiredly.

"I'm sorry to get all upset like this," she sniffled. "I didn't mean to . . . I know it must be horrible for you. Me mentioning Cedric, when you saw him die . . . I suppose you just want to forget about it?"

Harry stood silent. Her words ringing completely true. But he couldn't help but notice how pretty she still looked, red puffy eyed and slightly blotchy from crying. Making him feel heartless about it when they had just been discussing the death of Cedric.

"You're a really good teacher, you know," she smiled, hoping to end the silence. "I've never been able to stun anything before."

"Thanks," he said awkwardly.

They looked at each other for a while. Harry feeling his stomach begin to knot and his hands to moisten slightly.

"Mistletoe," she said almost in a whisper as she pointed toward the ceiling.

Harry only nodded as his mouth went completely dry. They were standing so close now. He could almost feel her breath fanning against his skin.

"I really like you, Harry."

That was last thing he heard before his brain completely shut down. Before he felt her lips pressed against his own, and every thought seeped out of his mind.

Half an hour later Harry entered the common room, and found his two best friends sitting alone near the fireplace. And reality came crashing down on him again when he noticed the angry look Ron still held on his face.

"What kept you?" Ron asked sharply, unintentionally of course.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked as he took a seat beside him, all thoughts about Cho and kisses forgotten.

"I was right about Buffy all along," he answered furiously. "I saw her go into a third floor classroom with Malfoy today."

Harry was sure he had stopped breathing as he felt the sudden fire that roared inside his chest. The twitching of his hands at this very new and interesting information.

"And?" Hermione urgently prodded.

"I listened at the door to hear what they were saying, and . . . " he paused as he let out a humorless chuckle. "Buffy has been spying on us all along and reporting everything back to Umbridge."

Harry and Hermione froze in shock. Their eyes wide and their mouths open.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, not wanting to believe it.

"I'm definitely sure. I heard her tell Malfoy to keep it secret. To not tell anybody that she was old toad face's favorite and that she's been telling Umbridge everything she knows about us."

"Wait a minute that doesn't make any sense," Hermione interrupted. "Why would Professor Umbridge give Buffy detention if she was her favorite?"

"Because she really didn't," he replied. "They set it all up to make it look like she did. So everyone would believe that they hated each other and no one would catch on. I even heard her say that she didn't really have detention, that all Buffy did was tell Umbridge everything she knew and then called it a night."

'_I heal fast_'. Her hand was smooth and he didn't question it. But then again his hand didn't scar the first time either. Though it was red and raw, nothing like what Buffy's hand had been that night.

"Didn't you find it strange that she only got one night's worth of punishment, while Harry and everyone else got more? Or the fact that she never got a scar on the back of her hand," Ron pointed out.

"I didn't either the first time," Harry said.

"Yes, and that's why Umbridge gave you extra detentions," Hermione reminded him. "But Buffy never got any. She only had that one night."

"I knew it! I knew there was a reason why Buffy was put into Gryffindor," Ron said angrily. "She was put here to spy on us!"

"That's nonsense Ron," Hermione brushed away.

"Didn't you hear what I just said?!" he asked indignantly.

"Yes, I did. But it's impossible to force someone into a House. If Buffy had gotten sorted again, there is absolutely no way she could have been placed here by simple choice."

"Maybe she jinxed the Sorting Hat!"

"That's not possible. The hat is un-jinxable."

"You don't believe me do you?!"

"Of course I believe you! But you have to reasonable!"

They kept arguing. Yes! No! Possible! Impossible! And all Harry heard was noise. He looked down at his hand. His fingers trailing over the scarred words. What if Buffy really was spying on them? Ron wouldn't lie. He may not like Buffy, but he wouldn't lie. If he said he saw Buffy with Malfoy– and what was she doing with him anyway? Why were they sneaking around? Why did they go into an empty classroom together? How long– No. Wait. That wasn't the point here. The point here is what Ron had heard. Right? Right. The point is that Buffy had confessed to being a spy for Umbridge, and the war going on within himself wether to believe it or not. Buffy wouldn't do something like that. Even the old Buffy wouldn't sink that low. But she was a different person now. More of a mystery than she had been before, and that made his trust in her, he was afraid to admit, very weak.

". . . Dumbledore wouldn't let something like this pass him by!" Hermione argued.

"There are ways around it you know!"

"All right. Like what?"

"Well . . . he, er . . . he . . . "

"See?"

"Now, wait a minute! It's not like this is the first time something has gotten past Dumbledore!"

'_It only put me in Gryffindor, because I asked not to go in Slytherin_'. There are ways around it. His sitting inside this very room was proof of that. Damn it! The scale was tipping further and further, and unfortunately toward the unwanted side. But a part of him refused, absolutely refused, to give up on her. Ron and Hermione didn't talk to her that night. They didn't know her as well as he did. There was something different about Buffy now, leaving most of him in the dark. And he didn't want to judge, he really didn't, but he'd had too many brush in's with people he trusted, who always turned out to be someone else. And that made him more suspicious than he liked.

". . . why can't you just accept that?"

"Why can't you just believe me?"

"Ron," Hermione grumbled. "How many times do I have to tell you that I do believe you? But you have to understand that--"

"Look," Harry finally spoke, stopping the argument and catching their immediate attention. "We don't know how or why Buffy got into Gryffindor. The important thing is she did. And if what Ron said is true, the only thing we should be worrying about is watching what we say around her. Meaning we don't mention anything about the D.A., about Snuffles or the rest of them. Agreed?"

Ron and Hermione nodded, although a little more tersely from their recent argument and flux of emotions.

"All right," Harry nodded.

"So what do we now?" Ron asked.

Harry sighed tiredly. "Sleep?"

The second he said the word it was like exhaustion suddenly over took them. Bidding Hermione a goodnight, the boys went up to their dormitory and within minutes they lay in their beds, pajamas on, and off into dreamland.

The cavern was lit with thousands of candles and scattered with old debris. A pool of water lay ahead of him. It's liquid so dark, he didn't know wether it held water or blood. A song was echoed around him. Familiar and distant.

_Ta-dun, ta-dun, ta-da-da-da-dun, ta-dun, ta-dun, ta-da-dun, ta-dun, ta-dun, ta-da-da-da-dun . . . ta-dun, ta-dun, ta-da-da-da-dun, ta-dun, ta-dun, ta-da-dun, ta-dun, ta-dun, ta-da-da-da-dun . . . _

The darkness faded away as he walked further. The rocky walls giving way to bright blue skies, and the ground beneath to grass and dirt. All the while, the song still played, repeating over and over but never reaching the end he knew it was missing. He saw a swing set, spring riders, and a seesaw. All of them moving as though invisible children played within them. And he kept walking, toward a little blonde girl that sat in the grass.

"It won't open for you," he said.

Little Buffy looked up with tears in her eyes. Her hand no longer turning the handle on the side of the box.

"I know, but it'll open for you," she sniffled. "I don't want it to open for you."

"I didn't want it to open for you either," Little Harry told her.

He sat down beside her and took the toy from her resistant hands. Completely afraid, he turned the handle over and over. The song sounding out once more.

_Ta-dun, ta-dun, ta-da-da-da-dun, ta-dun, ta-dun, ta-da-dun, ta-dun . . . ta-dun . . . ta-da-da-da-dun . . . _

He stopped turning and looked to Buffy. Now grown up to the present and smiling softly. She nodded in encouragement at his now too, present looking self. Taking a deep breath he turned back to the box, and started again.

_. . . Dun!-da-da-da-dun_.

The lid sprung open. But nothing popped out. Peering into the empty box all he saw was a never-ending void.

"I'm so sorry," she said, and slowly she disappeared. Everything did.

The dream was changing . . .

His body felt smooth, powerful, flexible. He was sliding between shining metal bars, and across dark, cold stone on his belly . . . it was dark but he could see objects around him shimmering in strange, vibrant colors . . . the corridor seemed empty . . . but there was a man . . . sitting on the floor ahead, his chin dropped to his chest, his outline gleaming in the dark . . . he could feel the tongue darting out of his mouth . . . he could taste the man's scent in the air . . . he was alive but drowsy . . . sitting in front of a door at the end of the corridor . . . he wanted to strike . . . but resisted the impulse . . . he had more important work to do . . .

The man was stirring . . . a silver cloak fell from his legs as he jumped to his feet, and Harry saw his vibrant, blurred outline towering above him, saw a wand withdrawn from a belt . . . he had no choice . . . he reared high from the floor and struck once, twice, three times, plunging his fangs deeply into the man's flesh, feeling his ribs splinter beneath his jaws, feeling the warm gush of blood . . .

The man was yelling in pain . . . then he fell silent . . . he slumped backwards against the wall . . . blood splattering on the floor . . .

"Harry! HARRY!"

His eyes snapped open, his body covered in sweat. His scar burning, aching on his forehead.

Ron was standing over him looking terrified. There were two more figures standing at the foot of his bed. Harry clutched his head in his hands, the pain overwhelming him, it was too much . . . rolling over the side he vomited over the edge of the mattress.

"He's really ill. Should we call someone?" a scared voice asked.

He needed to tell Ron. It was very important that he tell him. Pushing himself up, he willed himself not to heave again. The pain slowly subsiding.

"Ron . . . your dad," Harry roughly panted, his breath struggled. "Your dad's . . . been attacked . . . "

* * *

Note: Thanks for all the reviews! Sorry I haven't updated sooner, but I'm trying. I really am :) Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and will hopefully leave more reviews.


	31. Chapter 31

****

UnExpected

by Amerie

"How did you see this?" Dumbledore asked.

After waking up from his vision, Harry, along with Ron, had been taken up to see Dumbledore by Professor McGonagall. Someone had called for the Deputy Headmistress while Harry was still in his fit of daze and fear after waking, and after trying desperately to convince her that what he had was a vision and not a nightmare, she finally relented and took him to the Headmaster.

Now, here he stood in the Head's Office. Telling Dumbledore what he had seen, and irritated by the fact that the Headmaster had not looked his way since he had arrived.

"Well . . . I don't know," Harry answered angrily. What did that matter? "In my head, I suppose-"

"You misunderstand me," Dumbledore interrupted calmly, still looking down at his interlocked hands. "I mean . . . can you remember–where you were positioned as you watched this attack happen? Were you perhaps standing beside the victim, or else looking down at the scene from above?"

"I . . . I was the snake," he replied, surprised at the question. It was almost as though Dumbledore had known. "I saw it all from the snake's point of view."

The room stood quiet as they waited for Dumbledore to continue. Finally, after the lengthy pause he looked up and landed his vision on a white-faced Ron. And again refused to look at Harry.

"Is Arthur seriously injured?" he asked sharply not moving his gaze.

"Yes," he said emphatically. His irritation not ceasing an inch. Why weren't they reacting fast enough? He had already mentioned how badly Mr. Weasley had been hurt. And why wasn't Dumbledore looking at him?

"Everard! Dilys!" the Headmaster called out crisply as he sprang to his feet. He turned toward two portraits where a silver haired witch and a sallow faced wizard immediately opened their eyes. "The man has red hair and glasses. Everard, you will need to raise the alarm, and make sure he is found by the right people."

Both of the wizards nodded and moved sideways out of their frames. But instead of appearing in the next ones, as most of the portrait people tend to do, they didn't. All that was left of them were empty portraits.

"Everard and Dilys were two of Hogwarts' most celebrated Heads," Dumbledore stated as he walked around Harry, Ron and Professor McGonagall, toward his beloved phoenix who still remained asleep on its perch. "Their renown is such that both have portraits hanging in other important wizarding institutions. As they are free to move between their own portraits, they can tell us what might be happening elsewhere . . . "

"But Mr. Weasley could be anywhere!" Harry said urgently.

"Please sit down, all three of you," he continued on calmly. "I suspect Everard and Dilys may not be back for several minutes. Professor McGonagall, if you could draw up extra chairs."

Reaching into the pocket of her dressing gown, Professor McGonagall pulled out her wand and with a wave, conjured up three uncomfortable looking chairs. They sat themselves down, all the while keeping their eyes on Dumbledore.

"We will need a warning," the Headmaster quietly said to a now awake Fawkes, and in a flash of fire the phoenix was gone.

They quietly resumed their waiting for any news from the previous Head's of Hogwarts who had gone to who knows where on Dumbledore's orders.

"Dumbledore!"

All four of them turned to the frame where Everard, panting slightly, had just returned.

"What news?" Dumbledore asked immediately.

"I yelled until someone came running," the wizard replied. "Said I heard something moving downstairs, they weren't sure wether to believe me but went down to check, you know there are no portraits down there to watch from. Anyway, they carried him up a few minutes later. He doesn't look good, he's covered in blood, I ran along to Elfrida Cragg's portrait to get a good view as they left."

"Good," Dumbledore said. "I take it Dilys will have seen him arrive then--"

"Yes," Dilys interrupted as she reappeared in her frame. "They've taken him to St. Mungo's, Dumbledore . . . they carried him past my portrait . . . he looks bad . . . "

Harry immediately turned to Ron in concern, and noticed that his friend had only grown more pale in his terror.

"Thank you," the Headmaster said quickly and turned to face Professor McGonagall. "Minerva, I need you to go and wake the other Weasley children."

"Of course," Professor McGonagall said as she rose up from her chair and just before exiting the room she paused at the door. "And Dumbledore--what about Molly?"

"That will be a job for Fawkes when he has finished keeping a lookout for anybody approaching . . . but she may already know . . . that excellent clock of hers."

That excellent grandfather clock that the Weasleys have that doesn't tell the time, but has nine golden hands for each of the Weasley family members and tells the whereabouts and conditions of each one. And where Mr. Weasley's golden hand was most likely pointing at mortal peril by now.

When McGonagall had exited the room, Dumbledore began to rummage through a cupboard behind Harry and Ron. Stepping back with an old black kettle, Dumbledore went back to his desk and set the object down. Raising his wand he pointed it at the target and muttered, "Portus!" The kettle trembled and glowed an odd blue color for a moment, and then settled back to its normal self.

"Phineas," Dumbledore called out, now standing before another portrait where a clever-looking wizard dressed in green and silver sat sleeping, presumably. "Phineas."

When Phineas had not stirred the portraits around him began to call his name, until the wizard could no longer feign his sleep.

"Did someone call?" he asked 'drowsily.'

"I need you to visit your other portrait again, Phineas," Dumbledore said. "I've got another message."

"Visit my other portrait?" Phineas asked amidst a yawn. "Oh no, Dumbledore, I am too tired tonight."

Something about the sound of Phineas' voice rang familiar to Harry. As though he had heard it before. But before he could give it much thought the portraits around the room began to scold Phineas for his insubordination. Some with even threats of magical persuasion.

"Oh, very well," Phineas relented. "Though he may well have destroyed my picture by now, he's done away with most of the family--"

"Sirius knows not to destroy your portrait," Dumbledore imparted, and Harry suddenly realized where he had heard that voice before. From the, so he used to believe, empty portrait in his room at Grimmauld Place that used to enjoy annoying him. "You are to give him the message that Arthur Weasley has been gravely injured and that his wife, children and Harry Potter will be arriving at his house shortly. Do you understand?"

"Arthur Weasley, injured, wife and children and Harry Potter coming to stay," Phineas repeated in a bored tone. "Yes, yes . . . very well." And with great effort, as though they were sending him to bring back the entire world in his palm, he slunk off.

A second later the door opened. Fred, George and Ginny were being ushered in by Professor McGonagall. All three looking disheveled, shocked and still dressed in their nighttime wear.

"Harry–what's going on?" Ginny asked, looking frightened. "Professor McGonagall says you saw Dad get hurt--"

"Your father has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore responded. "He has been taken to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you back to Sirius's house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than the Burrow. You will meet your mother there."

"How are we going? Floo powder?" Fred asked.

"No," Dumbledore responded. "Floo powder is not safe at the moment, the Network is being watched. You will be taking a Portkey. We are just waiting for Phineas Nigellus to report back . . . I want to make sure the coast is clear before--"

A flash of flame appeared in the middle of the office, leaving behind a single golden feather that floated gently downward.

"It is Fawkes's warning," said Dumbledore as he caught the feather before it reached the ground. "Professor Umbridge must know you're out of your beds."

"He says he'll be delighted," Phineas's bored tone said as he reappeared in his portrait. "My great-great-grandson has always had an odd taste in house-guests. Especially that small, blon--"

"Come on then," Dumbledore interrupted him, and signaled for the children to come closer. "And quickly."

The group gathered around Dumbledore's desk and each grasped a firm hold of the kettle he had indicated to them.

"On the count of three," he said. "One . . . two . . . "

For a split second Harry looked toward Dumbledore, and when he met the man's clear blue eyes he felt his scar burst in pain. And for that one small moment in time Harry felt a powerful, strong hatred rising up within him. And he wanted nothing more than to strike, to hurt Albus Dumbledore.

". . . three."

And then, they were gone. Only two bodies were left in the room now.

"Shall I tell the others?" McGonagall asked, referring to the Order members.

"Yes. Thank you," Dumbledore replied. The look in Harry's eyes still haunting him.

"What about Ms. Summers and Ms. Granger?"

Tiredly, Dumbledore settled into his chair as he responded, "they'll no doubt hear the news about this tomorrow morning. The beginnings of it at least. I would appreciate it if you spoke to Ms. Granger. I'll speak to Ms. Summers. She'll be full of worry no doubt."

"You mean Ms. Granger," Minerva said with the lilt of a question.

Dumbledore only gave her a secretive smile, and Professor McGonagall knew that's all she was going to get.

"Goodnight Headmaster," she said politely.

"Goodnight Minerva."

The door closed quietly behind her, and Dumbledore found himself alone. Nothing but troubling thoughts running through his head. Knowing any chance of sleep was going to evade him once again.

The kettle clattered to the ground. As did everyone else. Balance came easier with practice right?

"Back again. The blood-traitor brats. Is it true their father's dying?"

The malicious voice of Kreature was the first thing Harry heard, and anger was the first thing he felt when he heard the nasty words.

"OUT!" Sirius shouted from somewhere nearby.

The group was beginning to gather to their feet when they realized they had landed in the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place. The room was dreary with only one candle and a fire to light the place, but even in the gloom Harry could make out Kreature as he left. Hitching up his loincloth along the way. Turning back around, Harry faced Sirius, and was he surprised. This wasn't the same Sirius he had seen months ago. He didn't look sad or bitter. He didn't even look annoyed. He actually looked . . . happy. Although a bit worried due to recent circumstances, but still happy. It was a bit . . . strange.

"What's going on?" he asked anxiously. "Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been badly injured--"

"Ask Harry," said Fred.

"Yeah, I want to hear this for myself," George added.

Everyone turned to Harry expectantly, except for Ron who had been there. And was still too shaken up to speak. Starting out nervously, and ending the same way, Harry retold the events. Everything from his vision to the present. Making sure not to mention the fact that he had seen the attack through the snake's eyes.

"Is mum here?" Fred asked, when Harry had finished.

"She probably doesn't even know what's happened yet," Sirius replied. "The important thing was to get you away before Umbridge could interfere. I expect Dumbledore's letting Molly know now."

"We've got to go to St. Mungo's," Ginny spoke urgently, then glanced around at everyone's current attire. "Sirius, can you lend us cloaks or anything?"

"Hang on, you can't go tearing off to St. Mungo's!" he said.

"Course we can go to St. Mungo's if we want," Fred said. "He's our dad!"

"And how are you going to explain how you knew Arthur was attacked before the hospital even let his wife know?"

"What does that matter," George said furiously.

"It matters because we don't want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away!"

"Maybe," Ginny started quietly. "Maybe we can say somebody else told us . . . we could have heard it from somewhere other than Harry."

"Like who?" Sirius asked, getting impatient. "Listen, your dad's been hurt while on duty for the Order and the circumstances are fishy enough without his children knowing about it seconds after it happened, you could seriously damage the Order's--"

"We don't care about the dumb Order!" Fred shouted.

"It's our dad dying we're talking about!" George yelled.

"Your father knew what he was getting into and he won't thank you for messing things up for the Order!" Sirius stated angrily. "This is how it is–this is why you're not in the Order–you don't understand–there are things worth dying for!"

"Easy for you to say, stuck here! I don't see you risking your neck!" Fred exclaimed.

All the happiness that Harry had seen in Sirius's eyes just moments ago disappeared. In its place a fury of emotions that Harry knew he was forcefully keeping in control.

"I know it's hard, but we've all got to act as though we don't know anything yet," he said in forced calm. "We've got to stay put, at least until we hear from your mother, all right?"

Albeit with glares, the Twins relented. Everyone took a seat at the table and waited it out. Staying awake for as long as it took until they heard some news about Arthur Weasley.

* * *

The next morning Buffy found the common room in excited gossip again. But as she passed by the gaggles and chirpers they all ignored her. So, apparently the new info was not about her. That was new.

"What's going on?" she asked Neville, coming to stand beside him near the portrait hole.

"It's Mr. Weasley," he answered somberly.

Her back stiffened slightly and her roaming eyes glued themselves on Neville.

"What happened?"

"Buffy," Natalie MacDonald interrupted before he could reply. "Professor McGonagall told me to give this to you."

Mr. Weasley, and now a note. That did not add up to a good feeling.

"Thanks," Buffy said offhandedly, taking the note before Natalie drifted away.

_Headmaster's office. As soon as possible_. Yep, this was not good.

"What is it?" Neville asked her.

"It's nothing, just have to go see Dumbledore," she replied stuffing the note in her bag. "He wants to check how my studies are going before we start holiday."

"Again?"

"Yeah, well, you know, being gone so long from this place makes him think I've become a dunce or something. I'll catch up with you later."

"Yeah," he mumbled, suspicion tinging his voice as he watched her go.

She knew she was walking faster than what would be considered normal, but she had other important things to worry about. Breezing past the gargoyle, up the stairs, into the office, she was three steps in before she let her worry burst out.

"What's wrong?"

Calmly, Dumbledore looked up from his desk, and smiled warmly. "Good morning, Ms. Summers."

Realizing how rude she may have sounded, bursting in and all, she smiled sheepishly. "Good morning, Headmaster."

Dumbledore was calm that was good. Maybe the situation wasn't as serious as she thought it was. But then again . . .

Smiling again, Dumbledore indicated to the empty chair in front of his desk. One she took quickly and was ready to return to her previous anxiousness if she didn't get any answers soon.

"Mr. Weasley was attacked last night while one duty," he informed her.

"Is he all right?"

"He will be. He had sustained grave injuries, but was found in time. He's currently in St. Mungo's where he is being treated."

He was injured but he was going to be fine. Buffy breathed out a sigh in relief and then the words caught up with her. "He was found in time? By who?"

Buffy knew that when Dumbledore said 'while on duty,' he meant Order duty. Which means Mr. Weasley was down there in the Ministry by himself keeping guard of the very special door, and unnoticed by any Ministry workers working the late shift, or anyone else.

"Mr. Potter," he replied.

It felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She knew it was coming, they all did, but even after Dumbledore had warned them about it, Buffy still hated the thought of Harry being attached to that _Thing_. And according to Buffy, that's exactly what Voldemort had become.

"It's getting stronger isn't it?" she asked in a small voice.

"I'm afraid so," he answered somberly.

"Does he know? Harry I mean."

"No," he replied, and then leaned back into his chair. "He is still fully unaware of the link, but it won't be long before Voldemort himself is aware of it."

"And will use to his advantage."

Dumbledore only nodded, and the two fell into a heavy silence. All the repercussions of Voldemort finding about that dreadful link coming to their minds.

"So," Buffy began, trying to shake her brain out of any more scary thoughts. "Do, um . . . do the Weasley kids know . . . about their dad?"

"Yes, they were informed last night after Harry's vision," he said. "They were allowed to start their holiday early so they could visit Arthur at St. Mungo's."

"Harry too?"

"Yes, Harry too," he smiled. "And before you ask Ms. Granger still remains at Hogwarts until the end of term. We felt it would be too suspicious if she went along."

"Don't need to give Umbridge any more ammo do we?" she smiled knowingly.

"No, I'm afraid she's doing fine on her own," he half-heartedly smiled back.

Yep. That annoying, grubby, little witch was definitely doing fine on her own. Stupid toad.

"I have a question," Buffy said, as she readjusted herself in her seat. "I'm sensing Harry had the whole vision quest about seeing Mr. Weasley being attacked before he was found, which I'm guessing you had a hand in or else he would still be in the Ministry injured and I'm assuming near death, which you still haven't told me how and by what by the way, and I would very much like to know if you don't mind."

Dumbledore knew many different languages: Latin, Russian, German, Mermish, Gobbledegook, Parseltongue, and many others, however, this was the first time the English one, his native tongue, had him flabbergasted. And although it took him a few seconds, he managed to break Buffy's words down to something he could understand. And also, mentally, file it away as a new take on the language. Simply known as Buffyspeak. Knowing he would need it for future use.

"Know it what manner he had been attacked, or know how he had been sought help?" he asked, still slightly boggled.

"Both actually," she nodded, predictably unaware of how her speaking pattern caused others' minds to spin.

Leaning forward again, and clasping his hands together, Dumbledore answered her inquiry. "According to Harry, and confirmed by the update I have received from Molly, Arthur had been bitten by a snake. Several times. It caused him to bleed severely, and had injected him with a kind of poison to keep his wounds from healing, but as I mentioned before, he will be fine. They're doing all they can."

Buffy froze in shock. '_. . . bitten by a snake_', '_ . . . keep his wounds from healing_'. Goose bumps traveled up and down her arms as the words reverberated in her mind. She could almost feel the snake over her skin. Smooth and dry as it loosely coiled itself around her neck, around her arms. Its scaley body comforted under her touch.

"Nagini," she whispered.

Very few things surprised Dumbledore nowadays, but hearing Buffy say that name was definitely one of the few.

"What would make you say that, Ms. Summers?" he asked.

She wasn't even aware she had said it out loud. It wasn't until she heard Dumbledore's question that she snapped out of her thoughts.

"I'm not wrong, am I?" she asked, side stepping his question.

"To be honest. I'm not sure," he said, accepting her lack of an answer when his own memories came back. "But I don't believe you're wrong."

That wasn't what she wanted to hear. And at the somewhat confirmation of what she already knew she could feel those goose bumps rising up again.

"How did Mr. Weasley get help?" she asked, her voice sounding distracted and her unfocused eyes looking at nothing in particular.

"We found a way," he answered, knowing she wasn't listening to his explanation.

"Oh," she mumbled.

He watched her. Noticing the strange look on her face.

"Ms. Summers, are you all right?"

Blinking twice in rapid succession, Buffy looked up and smiled. "I'm fine."

He wasn't convinced, but Dumbledore knew she wouldn't share her true feelings about the situation. He knew Buffy had been through a lot while away from Hogwarts, her weary eyes and newly introverted demeanor making that very clear. Not to mention her own dealings with Voldemort that had left its painful scar on her. So, he let her be. For now.

"Was that your question?" he asked, changing the subject for her benefit.

"Yes–I mean no," she said. "Actually, I uh . . . I wanted to know how everyone else knew. When I went into the common room this morning, everyone knew about Mr. Weasley."

"Well, I'm sure I don't need to tell you how fast news travels around here," he told her, and a small smile appeared on Buffy's face. "But you can be rest assured that none of them are aware of Harry's involvement. And those who are have been sworn to secrecy. Which, I might add, include Mr. Thomas, Mr. Finnigan and Mr. Longbottom."

"They know?"

"I'm afraid they were present when Mr. Potter awoke from his sleep and informed Professor McGonagall and Mr. Weasley of what he had seen."

"Well that oughta do it," she muttered. "See this is why I'm all for private rooms."

"I agree," he said seriously. "But we just don't seem to have room in this very large castle for private quarters."

"Yeah I could see how squeezing in a couple of extra rooms in this multi-level, one billion square foot castle, might be a problem."

"Ah, then you do see the dilemma."

Buffy was the first to break and chuckled, and then Dumbledore followed with a wide amused smile. He was definitely, way better than Snyder.

"I should probably head down now," Buffy said as she rose from her chair. "Class is about to start."

"All right," he responded. "Have a good day Ms. Summers."

"Thanks, Professor," she smiled as she made her way to the door. "You too."

With her hand barely on the handle, Buffy paused and turned back.

"Professor," she began hesitantly. "About Nagini–I-I mean, about me knowing--"

"Stays in this room," he spoke sincerely before she could finish.

"Thank you," she told him gratefully.

He nodded once and Buffy exited the room. As he watched her go, Dumbledore realized he had forgotten to mention the fact that the Weasleys and Harry would be staying at Grimmauld Place over the holiday. And he remembered Ms. Summers informing him that she and Buffy would be doing same. Dumbledore was aware of the slight animosity the group shared, but Buffy was gaining good ground with Ginny, Fred and George. So, maybe, it wouldn't be so bad to have them all staying in the same enclosed space for three weeks. It might even be beneficial. After all what's the worse that could happen?

* * *

Note: I'm sooooooo sorry it took me so long, so very, very long to update. But I had run out of writing juice. I lacked serious drive to keep writing, so I decided to take a break. I didn't want to half-heart it and post up sucky chapters. I'm trying to regain my groove so if the chapter isn't completely brilliant, I'm really sorry. But I'm trying to regain the muse so please be patient with me. And thanks to everyone for the great reviews so far.


	32. Chapter 32

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

He was going to be fine, and Harry felt the weight of the world melt away from his shoulders.

Mrs. Weasley came rushing into the kitchen at Grimmauld Place at five in the morning, assuring everyone that Mr. Weasley was all right and going to be all right. There was a collective sigh of relief from everyone in the room, and soon after a heavy onset of exhaustion from their lack of sleep. And after eating a small breakfast, one that had to be prepared by Mrs. Weasley seeing as Kreacher was nowhere to be found, the group set off for a short nap before visiting St. Mungo's. Well, everyone except for Harry who was afraid that the moment he closed his eyes he would find himself looking through snake eyes again and attacking someone else he cared about. And that was not something he was willing to chance.

Tonks and Mad-Eye arrived later on that afternoon, after everyone had awoken from their short sleep. They were going to escort the group, sans Sirius, across London to visit Mr. Weasley. Deciding to take the Underground, seeing as it would attract far less attention, Harry tried to avoid answering Tonks's pestering questions about his dream. The one he hated to remember, much less retell out loud . . . again, and also her questions of wether or not there was Seer blood in his family. It was a long and uncomfortable ride that was for sure.

Finally, they arrived at a station in the very heart of London, which thankfully ended any more of Tonks's inquiries. The large group moved themselves from Underground to above ground and to very bustling streets filled with Christmas shoppers. Following Tonks's lead, and ignoring the nagging feeling that Mad-Eye was keeping his one special eye on him, Harry thought back to the previous conversation he'd had with Sirius, the one he'd had before his so-called _refreshing_ nap.

'"_Did you tell Dumbledore this?" Sirius asked, as they both stood in the darkness of the pantry. Away from well-known prying eyes and ears, and after Harry had retold every detail of his dream. Including the part where he believed he was the snake._

"_Yes," Harry answered. "But he didn't tell me what it meant. Well, he doesn't tell me anything any more."_

"_I'm sure he would have told you if it was anything to worry about."_

"_But that's not all," Harry said, his voice lowering to just above a whisper. "Sirius, I . . . I think I'm going mad. Back in Dumbledore's office, just before we took the Portkey . . . for a couple of seconds there, I thought I was a snake, I felt like one–my scar really hurt when I was looking at Dumbledore–Sirius, I wanted to attack him!"_

_There was a pause of silence and Harry tried to read Sirius's expression, but his face was covered too much by the darkness._

"_It must have been the aftermath of the vision, that's all," he reassured him. "You were still thinking of the dream or whatever it was and--"_

"_It wasn't that," Harry said. "It was like something rose up inside of me, like there's a snake inside of me."_

"_You need to sleep," Sirius told him firmly. "You're going to have breakfast, then go upstairs to bed, and after lunch you can go and see Arthur with the others. You're in shock, Harry. You're blaming yourself for something you only witnessed, and it's lucky you did witness it or Arthur might have died. Just stop worrying."_

_And then Sirius left, and that was that._'

"Right," Tonks said.

Hearing her voice snapped Harry out of his thoughts, and he refocused his attention to the very large, shabby, red-bricked department store they were currently standing in front of. Purge & Dowse, Ltd. was its name and apparently 'Closed for Refurbishment'. Looking into the windows, he found badly maintained dummies. Creepy, old, badly maintained dummies that seemed to be wearing clothes ten years out of date.

"Everybody ready?" she asked, and they all nodded as they clustered around her. To a window that only held one particularly ugly female dummy.

Leaning into the glass, Tonks looked up and toward it. Then spoke so close to the window that it steamed up from her breath. "Wotcher . . . we're here to see Arthur Weasley."

It would've been funny to see a grown woman speaking to an inanimate dummy, it would have been if the dummy didn't suddenly nod its head and beckon them forward with its cracked finger. Now, it was just scary.

Pair by pair they moved through the glass. And when it was Harry's turn to do so, he felt a sheet of cool water run over him, making him wonder if passing through a waterfall would feel the same way. Emerging dry and warm on the other side he realized there were no dummies to be found, but there was a crowded reception area with rows of witch and wizards occupying wooden chairs. Many with gruesome disfigurements like elephant trunks, extra hands, or making weird unnatural noises. But you know, nothing out of the ordinary.

"Are they doctors?" Harry asked Ron. Indicating to the people in lime-green robes with an emblem of a crossed bone and wand embroidered on their chests.

"Doctors?" Ron asked looking startled. "You mean those Muggle nutters that cut people up? Nah, they're Healers."

"Over here!" Mrs. Weasley called out.

Everyone moved to the queue that stood in front of a desk marked Enquiries where a plump blonde witch sat. Harry noticed a large portrait of a witch with silver ringlets behind her that looked very familiar, with a small label underneath it reading:

_Dilys Derwent_

_St. Mungo's Healer 1722-_

_Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry 1741-_

Dilys seemed to be eyeing their little group, counting them seemed more like it, and when she noticed Harry's eyes on her she gave him a wink and vanished. Great, he was even being watched by the portraits. Next thing you know Dumbledore would have one of the Gryffindor students keep an eye on him.

In front of the line, Harry noticed a man hopping from one foot to another and looking very distressed as he told his predicament in between cries of pain.

"It's these–ouch–shoes my brother gave me–ow–they're eating my–OUCH– feet–look at them, there must be some kind of–AAARGH–jinx on them and I can't–AAAAAARGH–get them off."

"Those shoes don't prevent you reading, do they?" the blonde witch asked irritably, and then pointed to a large sign at the left of her desk. "You want Spell Damage, fourth floor. Just like it says on the floor guide. Next!"

The man jigged and hobbled to the side and out of the way, as Harry began to read the sign the witch had indicated.

ARTEFACT ACCIDENTS… Ground floor

_Cauldron explosion, wand backfiring, broom crashes, etc. _

CREATURE-INDUCED INJURIES… First floor

_Bites, stings, burns, embedded spines, etc. _

MAGICAL BUGS… Second floor

_Contagious maladies, e.g. dragon pox, vanishing sickness, scrojungulus, etc._

POTION AND PLANT POISONING… Third floor

_Rashes,regurgitation (uncontrollable), etc_.

SPELL DAMAGE… Fourth floor

_Unliftable jinxes, hexes, and incorrectly applied charms, etc._

VISITORS' TEAROOM AND HOSPITAL SHOP… Fifth floor

IF YOU ARE UNSURE WHERE TO GO, INCAPABLE OF NORMAL SPEECH OR

UNABLE TO REMEMBER WHY YOU ARE HERE, OUR WELCOME WITCH WILL BE

PLEASED TO HELP.

"I'm here to see Broderick Bode," a very old wizard, who was now at the desk, wheezed out.

"Ward forty-nine, but I'm afraid you're wasting your time. He's completely addled, you know–still thinks he's a teapot. Next!"

A small girl with wings on her back flying in the air as her father held onto her ankle later, a 'Next!', and it was finally their turn.

"Hello," Mrs. Weasley greeted as she moved to the desk. "My husband, Arthur Weasley, was supposed to be moved to a different ward this morning, could you tell us–?"

"Arthur Weasley?" the witch asked as she looked down at a long list in front of her. "Yes. First floor, second door on the right, Dai Llewellyn Ward."

"Thank you," Mrs. Weasley smiled and then turned to the others. "Come on, you lot."

They followed her through double doors, up a stairway, and into a corridor marked Creature-Induced Injuries. Then to a door marked _Dangerous' Dai Llewellyn Ward_: Serious Bites, where apparently the Healer-in Charge was Hippocrates Smethwyck, or so said the little card in the brass holder on the door.

"We'll wait outside, Molly," said Tonks. "Arthur won't want too many visitors at once . . . it ought to be just the family first."

Moody agreed and leaned his back against the wall of the corridor. Something Harry was about to do as well before Mrs. Weasley reached out to him.

"Don't be silly, Harry, Arthur wants to thank you," she said as she gently pushed him through the door.

The ward was small and dingy, with only a single window that sat high on the wall opposite the doorway. And most of the light was coming from the floating crystal baubles that were clustered together in the middle of the ceiling. There were only three patients in the room, and Mr. Weasley was at the far end propped up on pillows and reading the Daily Prophet.

"Hello!" he beamed when he noticed his visitors, and tossed the paper aside. "Bill just left, Molly, had to get back to work, but he says he'll drop in on you later."

"How are you, Arthur?" she asked, leaning down and giving his cheek a quick kiss. "You're still looking a bit peaky."

"I feel absolutely fine," he answered as he hugged Ginny with his good arm. "If they'd only take the bandages off, I'd be fit to go home."

"Why can't they take them off, Dad?" asked Fred.

"Well, I start bleeding like mad every time they try," Mr. Weasley said cheerfully, reaching for his wand that lay on his bedside cabinet, and waving it so that six extra chairs appeared at his bedside to seat them all. "It seems there was some rather unusual kind of poison in that snake's fangs that keeps wounds open. They're sure they'll find an antidote, though; they say they've had much worse cases than mine, and in the meantime I just have to keep taking a Blood-Replenishing Potion every hour."

"So, you going to tell us what happened, Dad?" Fred asked as he pulled his chair closer.

"Well, you already know, don't you?" Mr. Weasley answered as he smiled at Harry. "It's very simple--I'd had a very long day, dozed off, got sneaked up on and bitten."

"Is it in the Prophet, you being attacked?" Fred continued to question.

"No, of course not," Mr. Weasley said with a slightly bitter smile. "The Ministry wouldn't want everyone to know a dirty great serpent got--"

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley warned him.

"--got--er--me," Mr. Weasley said hastily, but Harry had a feeling that, that was not what Mr. Weasley had wanted to say.

"So where were you when it happened, Dad?" asked George.

"That's my business," he replied with a tight smile, and then picked up the previously abandoned Daily Prophet. "I was just reading about Willy Widdershins's arrest when you arrived. You know Willy turned out to be behind those regurgitating toilets back in the summer? One of his jinxes backfired, the toilet exploded and they found him lying unconscious in the wreckage covered from head to foot in--"

"When you say you were 'on duty'," Fred interrupted in a low voice. "What were you doing?"

"You heard your father," whispered Mrs. Weasley. "We are not discussing this here! Go on about Willy Widdershins, Arthur."

"Well, don't ask me how, but he actually got off the toilet charge," Mr. Weasley continued on bitterly. "I can only suppose gold changed hands--"

"You were guarding it, weren't you?" said George quietly. "The weapon? The thing You-Know- Who's after?"

"George, be quiet!" Mrs. Weasley snapped.

"Anyway," Mr. Weasley said. "This time Willy's been caught selling biting doorknobs to Muggles and I don't think he'll be able to worm his way out of it because, according to this article, two Muggles have lost fingers and are now in St. Mungo's for emergency bone re-growth and memory modification. Just think of it, Muggles in St. Mungo's! I wonder which ward they're in?"

"Didn't you say You-Know-Who's got a snake, Harry?" Fred asked, looking at his father for a reaction. "A massive one? You saw it the night he returned, didn't you?"

"That's enough," said Mrs. Weasley crossly. "Mad-Eye and Tonks are outside, Arthur, they want to come and see you. And you lot can wait outside," she told her children and to Harry. "You can come and say goodbye afterwards. Go on."

The group moved silently back into the corridor, Fred and George a little more disappointed than the others from the lack of information they've managed to receive. Resting against the wall, they watched as Mad-Eye and Tonks went in and closed the door behind them.

"Fine," Fred said bitterly and began to rummage through his pockets. "Be like that. Don't tell us anything."

"Looking for these?" George said, holding out what looked like a tangle of flesh-colored string.

"You read my mind," Fred grinned. "Let's see if St. Mungo's puts Imperturbable Charms on its ward doors, shall we?"

The Twins disentangled the string and separated five Extendable Ears from each other and handed them around. With only Harry being a little hesitant about it. Not sure if he really wanted to hear what was going on in there. Especially since he knew his name would be mentioned.

"Go on, Harry, take it! You saved Dad's life. If anyone's got the right to eavesdrop on him, it's you."

Resigning to curiosity, Harry took the end of the string being offered and inserted it into his ear, following the Twins' example.

"Okay, go!" Fred whispered.

The flesh-colored strings wriggled like long skinny worms and snaked under the door. At first, Harry could hear nothing, then he jumped as he heard Tonks whispering as clearly as though she were standing right beside him.

" . . . they searched the whole area but couldn't find the snake anywhere. It just seems to have vanished after it attacked you, Arthur . . . but You-Know-Who can't have expected a snake to get

in, can he?"

"I reckon he sent it as a lookout," growled Moody. "Cause he's not had any luck so far, has he? No, I reckon he's trying to get a clearer picture of what he's facing and if Arthur hadn't been

there the beast would've had a lot more time to look around. So, Potter says he saw it all happen?"

"Yes," Mrs. Weasley answered, sounding uneasy. "You know, Dumbledore seems almost to have been waiting for Harry to see something like this."

"Yeah, well," said Moody. "There's something funny about the Potter kid, we all know that."

"Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when I spoke to him this morning," Mrs. Weasley said in a hushed tone.

"Course he's worried," growled Moody. "The boy's seeing things from inside You-Know-Who's snake. Obviously, Potter doesn't realize what that means, but if You-Know-Who's possessing him--"

Harry immediately pulled the Extendable Ear out of his own. He could feel his heart hammering a thousand times per second, and his face growing hot. With self-conscious eyes he looked at the others, and found them all staring at him. The strings still connected to their ears, and looking suddenly fearful.

* * *

"We're gonna miss the train," she said anxiously.

"We're not going to miss the train," he said calmly.

"It leaves in twenty minutes," she exasperated. "And I for one, am not planning to stay in this place for three weeks. Not when I have presents waiting for me out in the real world. Hopefully with nog and some kind of roast beast."

Draco chuckled and shook his head. "Heaven forbid I should stand between you and your presents."

"Damn straight," Buffy nodded curtly. "Besides I don't really fancy a run in with Pansy. Don't wanna ruin my holiday before it even starts."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, because you're currently here with me, which means you're not currently with her, which concludes in her currently looking for you."

Draco sighed in annoyance and rolled his eyes, which had become a staple every time Buffy mentioned Pansy's smothering nature.

"I think she's starting to figure out where I go when I'm not around," he said. "She gives me these _looks_ . . . and every time she, or anyone else, mentions your name she looks at me, expecting to see some sort of reaction I guess."

"And?" she shrugged. "It's not like we're keeping our meetings a secret." He gave her a look and she backtracked. "Ok, we are but not because we don't people to know . . . it's just because . . . we don't . . . you know . . . want people to know."

"Well that made sense," he sarcastically drawled.

"You know what I mean," she told him. "We're regaining our friendship footing here, and I don't know about you but I'd rather do it without all those nosy, busy bodies around. I already have enough gossip going on behind my back. Any more and my back's gonna start talking back."

Draco chuckled again as he nodded in agreement.

"But one of these days, you never know. I might actually say hello. Maybe even wave," she said.

"In public?"

"Well . . . I wouldn't go that far."

He began to pout and she smacked his arm gently. A large smile appeared on his face and all was right with the right world.

"We should probably get going," he said. "Don't want you to miss the train that will take you to your roast beast."

"And presents."

"And presents."

Smiling, Buffy walked up to Draco and wrapped her arms tightly around him. Gripping him even tighter when his own arms wound themselves firmly around her. With her head resting on his shoulder, she breathed him in and for the first time since they had begun talking again, it felt like no time had passed. And the breath she had been holding since then had finally released.

Draco leaned his cheek against the top of her head and breathed her in. Closing his eyes in relaxation, he let himself be lost for a moment. Buffy was back in his life again. There were no doubts about that now. And the longing feeling he'd had since she disappeared had finally gone away.

"It's going to be a long three weeks," he said.

"Tell me about it."

Breaking apart, they smiled at each other. Their arms still loosely on one another.

"You should go first," Draco told her.

She nodded and let her arms hang at her sides. "Guess I'll see you when we get back."

"Promise?"

Stepping to him again, she grabbed his hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

"Promise."

He smiled gratefully and then watched as she left the room. He gave a heavy sigh and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Waiting a little longer until he walked out and to the station. All the while thinking it was definitely going to be a long three weeks.

The next few minutes were a blur as Buffy rushed to get her things and her butt to the train before it left without her. Looking through the compartments she finally found Neville and Luna talking quietly, and moved herself in just as the train was pulling out. And very thankful when Neville schooched over in his seat to give her the window one.

"Where's Susie?" he asked.

"With her friends a few compartments down. She said she'll stop by before she goes," Buffy answered him.

"I didn't see Hermione on the train. Is she staying at Hogwarts?" Luna asked.

"I don't know. I didn't see her either," Neville replied.

"She's probably in here somewhere, albeit a little harder to recognize without Harry and Ron around her," Buffy said jokingly. "But I don't think she'll stay behind with Mr. Weasley in the hospital. She's really close with the Weasley clan, probably needed for moral support and what not."

"Probably," Neville nodded.

"That's nice of her," Luna said in her dreamlike voice. "It's always good to have friends around in times of need."

"Yeah," Buffy smiled. There was a pause as they thought about the Weasley family and hoped that everything would turn out all right. "So, any special plans for the holidays?"

"Not really. Just spending it with my grams," Neville answered. His eyes not meeting anyone's and his shoulders becoming slightly tense.

Buffy eyed him for a while but chose not to ask. "Luna?"

"Oh, nothing special," she said, sounding mildly disappointed. "Dad thinks the Butternite Crimps won't be around this winter. So, he's decided it'd be best to just stay home."

Neville and Buffy glanced at each other for a second, as they tended to do whenever Luna mentioned a creature neither one of them had ever heard of, and humored her.

"That's too bad," Buffy said. "Maybe next year."

"Maybe," she replied. "What about you? Do you have any plans?"

"Nothing exciting," she said with a deep sigh. "Just a quiet, boring, humdrum Christmas with the family."

"That sounds nice," Luna said.

"Yeah," Buffy smiled.

The compartment grew into a comfortable lull. Luna reading her copy of the Quibbler, Buffy looking out the window and Neville breezing through a Herbology book. The day wore on and the train choo-chooed its way down the track. Words would be exchanged every now and then, but for the most part the trio sat in comfortable silence, waiting out the ride. Finally, they felt it as the wheels slowed down to an inevitable halt and voices filled the hallways.

"Hey guys," Susie said as she stuck her head in.

"Hi," they greeted at once.

"I just wanted to wish you a Happy Christmas before I go," she grinned. "And to tell Buffy to stay out of trouble."

"Hey," she said indignantly.

"I think it's going to take more than a few words for that to happen," Neville said.

"Why am I always the one getting picked on?"

"Easy target," Neville and Susie said at once.

"Oh, yeah I'm definitely going to miss you over holiday," Buffy sarcastically voiced.

"I'll see you guys when we get back okay?" Susie smiled. "Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas!"

And with one last beaming smile, Susie left. The trio gathered their trunks and headed out. Maneuvering their way through the crowds to reach the station where their respective family members awaited.

"Well, I guess I'll see you guys when we get back," Buffy said.

"Remember, stay out of trouble," Neville reminded her as he looked at her sternly.

"Ha, ha," she sarcastically replied.

Wishing each other a Happy Christmas the three of them parted ways. Each going in their own direction.

"Over here!" Joyce called out.

Turning around, Buffy found her mom a few paces away. And she was glowing, not literally of course. But seriously what was that about? Not really caring, just overly ecstatic to see her, Buffy sprinted toward her, dropped her trunk and wrapped herself around her mother.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too, honey."

"Good," Buffy said as she pried herself away. "Because I'm afraid you're stuck with me for the next three weeks."

Joyce smiled. "I think I can manage."

Picking up her trunk, the Summers women exited the station, and walked it over to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" Joyce asked, indicating to Buffy's trunk.

"Nope, that's what Slayer strength is good for. Hauling luggage."

"Oh, so that's what it's for. And here I thought it was for opening jars."

"That, too. We're multi-functional."

Joyce smiled as she wrapped an arm around her daughter's shoulders.

"How's Snuggles doing?"

"He's good," she replied, unaware of the light flush in her cheeks. Something Buffy also missed as she kept her eyes forward. "Though I haven't been able to stop by for a few days."

"Why's that?"

"Well, someone's been keeping me busy with Christmas shopping and mailing out packages," she said pointedly.

"And I'm sure that someone is very grateful. Extra presents grateful even."

"I don't need extra presents," Joyce said warmly. "I'm just glad to have my daughter back for the holidays."

"So am I."

Snuggling in closer as they continued walking, they finally managed to reach their destination minutes later. And making sure no one was around to see them, they stepped toward the supposed nonexistent building. Using the key Sirius had given her, Joyce opened the door and lead them inside. It wasn't until they were safely in the house did she remember Remus telling her it wasn't just going to be herself and Buffy over for the holidays. There was going to be some extra company staying with them as well.

"Honey, there's--"

"You know it's strange. Dark, creepy, dingy," Buffy said as she dropped her trunk, unaware her mother was speaking. "I still missed this place."

"Honey--" Joyce tried again.

"I think they're in the kitchen," she continued on, leaning toward the door with a smile on her face. "I can definitely hear Sirius's very off key singing."

"Honey--"

But Buffy was already heading down the stairs. Why did Joyce suddenly get the feeling that was not going to turn out well?

Taking two at a time, Buffy hurried down. Anxious to see Sirius and Remus. Having missed them so much over the past months. Finally, she walked into the kitchen, and the bright, joyous smile that once lit her face disappeared.

A million different thoughts and emotions were running through her mind. And as she took in the shocked faces of people she did not expect to see, only one word came to mind.

Crap.

* * *

Note: I'm trying to update faster, really am, but with the lack of inspiration it's getting to be troubling. Which makes me afraid that any chapter I write is going to suck. Anyway, enough pity partying, I just want to thank everyone for the reviews. Seriously the best things ever when I read my email. In fact that's all I check my email for . . . that's kinda sad. ;) And on a side note, this chapter was a lot longer than I had anticipated.


	33. Chapter 33

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

After coming back from their visit at St. Mungo's Harry had locked himself away. Refusing to speak, or see, anyone as he paced the room he shared with Ron. Of course, it's not like anyone was desperate to talk to him either. No one came to check if he was okay. No one came to see if he wanted to talk. Maybe they were afraid of him. After all he was possessed by Voldemort. Why would they want to be around him?

He had wanted to leave. He was putting everyone in danger just by being here, and if it weren't for Dumbledore's strict orders to stay, via Phineas's portrait, he would have. He could've gone to stay with the Dursleys. Away from the Wizarding World, and the people he cared about. If Voldemort was inside of him, it won't be long before he attacks again. And it's not like the Dursleys would mind if he turned into a snake and started attacking them right? It's not like it would be the most horrible thing in the world . . . nevertheless, he wouldn't get to find out, because he was ordered to stay. Like a child. Do as you're told and don't ask any questions. Because apparently, he just wasn't in charge of his own life anymore.

The next day didn't change. He hid himself away from everyone again. This time in Buckbeak's room. Pitying himself as he fed the large animal dead rats. Skipping meals and not partaking in the decorating of the house. And again no one bothered him. At least until six o'clock that evening. If Hermione's snow-covered presence was anything to go on, it seems that the Hogwarts students were finally out for holiday break.

She banged on the door until he opened it. And not caring much for his hermit like existence, she dragged him to the second floor, and into his room. Where Ron and Ginny were both waiting for them. Hermione went on to explain how she had taken the Knight Bus as soon as the term was over as she removed her jacket and scarf. Saying how she had wanted to be here as quickly as possible after Dumbledore had informed her of what had happened. And without missing a beat, she moved onto Harry and his loner behavior.

"Oh, stop feeling all misunderstood," she said. "The others have told me what you overheard last night with the Extendable Ears--"

"Yeah?" Harry interrupted sharply as he looked at the Weasley siblings. "All been talking about me have you? Well, I'm getting used to it."

"We wanted to talk to you, Harry," Ginny explained. "But as you've been hiding ever since we got back--"

"I didn't want anyone to talk to me," he replied.

"Well that was a bit stupid of you. Seeing as I know what it's like to have been possessed by You-Know-Who, and I can tell you how it feels," Ginny reminded him angrily.

Harry paused in recollection. Her words feeling like a splash of water on his face.

"I forgot," he let out softly.

"Lucky you," she cooly replied.

"I'm sorry," he sincerely apologized. "So . . . so do you think I'm being possessed?"

"Can you remember everything you've been doing?" she asked curtly. Still, a little seethed at his forgetfulness. "Are there big blank periods where you don't know what you've been up to?"

"No," he shook his head.

"Then, no. When You-Know-Who did it to me, I couldn't remember what I'd been doing for hours at a time."

"But that dream I had about your dad and the snake--"

"Harry, you've had these dreams before," Hermione responded. "You had flashes of what Voldemort was up to last year."

"This was different," said Harry, shaking his head again. "I was inside the snake. It was like I was the snake . . . what if Voldemort somehow transported me to London–?"

"One day I'm going to make you read Hogwarts: A History," Hermione exasperated. "Then you'll know it's impossible to Apparate or Disapparate inside Hogwarts. Even Voldemort couldn't just make you fly out of your dormitory, Harry."

"You didn't leave your bed, mate," Ron informed him. "I saw you thrashing around in your sleep for at least a minute before we could wake you up."

Harry silently mulled everything over. That made . . . sense. Everything, all of it, actually made sense. Going through every point, he found no gaps in the argument, and a big streak of joy went up inside of him. He was definitely not possessed by Voldemort. And that was just the best Christmas present of all.

Now, happy, relieved, and starving, Harry had decided he wanted to be around people again. Dinner was ready and waiting and there was no better time. After regaining his spirits, the Trio headed off to the kitchen, to ease their rumbling stomachs, as Ginny headed off to find Fred and George, on Mrs. Weasley's orders.

"Feeling better I see," Sirius grinned as the three of them entered the room.

"Yeah," Harry replied sheepishly, feeling like an idiot for how he had been behaving.

"I wouldn't answer that just yet," Remus warned them, as they took a seat at the table.

"Why?"

And with a great big smile on his face, Sirius set off into a Christmas Carol Harry hadn't heard before. Something about a tree and a dwarf. And with the first bad note, Remus rolled his eyes and buried his face in his hands, mumbling something about a muzzle. Causing Harry, Ron and Hermione to grin even wider and laugh in amusement. All in all, everything was looking up. Then, the kitchen door opened, and everything turned upside down.

Time seemed to freeze, and each smile the four of them had disappeared.

Sirius had stopped his singing to smile at his new company, Remus looked up from his hands to do the same, and Mrs. Weasley walked closer to welcome the new guest. It wasn't until Joyce walked into the room that they realized that those were not some happy faces the kids were holding. But before any of them could say a word, Ron had sprung to his feet with his face tense in anger.

"What are you doing here?!"

The adults were shocked at the amount of venom in his voice. At the angry look on Hermione's face, the surprised one on Harry's, and the unrecognizable one on Buffy's.

"How did you know we were here?" he ranted on. "Did you follow Hermione?!"

"What's going on?" Sirius wondered aloud as he rose from his seat.

"I bet you've come here to spy on some more, haven't you!"

"What?" Buffy asked when she finally found her voice. Confused by his accusation.

"Don't be play stupid! You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Ron," Remus started gently, confused as to what was going on, and trying his best to defuse the puzzling situation.

"What?! Don't you know who she is?" he nearly growled. "What she's like? She's nothing more than a lying, two-faced, rotten, bitc--"

"Ronald Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley admonished.

It felt like a slap on the wrist. Looking around, Buffy suddenly felt out of place. The shocked looks and confused eyes, caused an odd feeling of shame to come over her. Like she had done something wrong.

"I'm gonna go," Buffy said, turning back around.

"No," Sirius said firmly as he wrapped a protective arm around Buffy's shoulders. "You're not going anywhere."

"No, really," she said, taking a quick peak at the Golden Trio, and lingering a little longer on Harry, before refocusing on Sirius. "It's okay. I mean, I'm kinda beat from the ride," she lamely explained. "Think I'm just gonna get some sleep."

"Buffy," her mother spoke softly in concern.

"Really, I'm okay," she responded, offering her a weak smile. "Just tired."

Joyce smiled back and could only watch as her daughter dragged herself up the stairs. Worried and confused about the turn of events. Then, in full blown protective mother-hen fashion, she turned back to glare at the boy who had called her baby girl a lying, two-faced, rotten--

"She's staying here?" Hermione asked in pure curiosity.

"Yes, she is," Sirius replied with no room for argument, while also glaring at one Ronald Weasley.

"Sirius, how do you know her?" Harry asked.

"Well, _children_," he began, his voice heavy with implication on the second word. "There's someone I'd like you to meet." Looking to his left, he indicated to the woman standing beside him. "This is Ms. Joyce Summers. Mother of one Buffy Summers." Their eyes widened in disbelief, and Ron's face felt very hot as he lowered himself to his chair in shock, embarrassment and maybe a little fear. Oops. "And also, Remus's cousin." Double oops.

Buffy was nearing the top of the stairs and deep into her brooding that she didn't notice them until she heard Ginny's voice.

"Buffy!" she exclaimed cheerfully in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, guys," Buffy greeted casually, or at least tried to. "I'm staying here with my mom."

"Really? Wow, that's . . . " Ginny responded excitedly then noticed the expression on Buffy's face, "great?"

"Are you okay?" Fred asked.

"Yeah," she replied unconvincingly.

"You don't look okay," George pointed out.

"I'm good, just tired," she said trying to genuinely smile, but failing miserably. "I'll see you guys later."

Ginny, Fred and George watched her go, and glanced at each other in concern. But if Buffy's behavior was any indication it definitely meant she didn't want to be followed. Continuing down the stairs the three of them entered the kitchen. Where the majority of the room was glowering at their brother. And Ginny didn't need to be told why.

"What did you say to her?" she demanded, as she marched over to him.

"Me? Why do you assume it was me?" Ron indignantly responded.

"Because it's always you," Fred told him, as he and George took their seats.

"Why can't you just leave her alone?" Ginny nearly shouted.

"Why do you always think it's my fault?"

"Because I've known you for the past fourteen years, that's why!"

It was an argument in the making, but before it could escalate any further, Sirius let out a loud whistle to stop it in its tracks. Which seemed to work, and only left the two Weasley kids to glare at each other.

"Now, I know how difficult it is for you teenagers to keep your attention spans," he said, earning a scowl from Hermione, "but will somebody please tell us what the bloody hell is going on?" he demanded, resuming his seat.

As Ginny moved to take a chair beside her twin brothers, everyone was stuck on what to say. How exactly where they going to explain the animosity certain people had for Buffy, when her mother was in the very same room. And didn't really look all that pleased at the moment.

"Ron," Mrs. Weasley said expectantly.

"Yes?" he fearfully asked.

"Would you care to explain your rude, and might I add, absolutely horrendous behavior," she spoke through restrained anger.

"Yeah, Ron, go ahead," said Fred, smiling at his brother's squirming and earning a glare in return.

"Well . . . you see . . . the thing is . . . " he began to sputter out.

"Ron, doesn't like Buffy," Ginny blatantly responded, causing her brother to scowl. "Well, it's true."

"That's no excuse for your behavior," she lectured. "The things you said to that poor girl."

"Poor girl?" he asked in disbelief. "Do you even what she's really like?" He sighed in frustration. "Besides, I'm not the only one you know," he added defensively.

"What do you mean?" Ms. Summers asked, as she lowered herself into a chair next to Sirius.

The teenagers looked at each other, unsure of wether to answer. Even Ron and Hermione, no matter how much of their dislike for Buffy, didn't feel comfortable explaining the situation to her mother. They didn't know her, Sirius seemed to trust her and she was Remus's cousin. For all they knew she could be the exact opposite of Buffy.

"Well?" Remus urged.

"Well . . . it's just . . . " Hermione struggled to explain. "The thing is, with Ms. Summers here . . . we don't know if we should . . . "

"I think if anyone here has a right to know, it would be Ms. Summers," Sirius stated.

"A-all right," nodded Hermione, taking a quick glance at the others. "I mean, if it's okay . . . it's just . . . you see . . . "

"Things at school haven't been easy for Buffy since she came back," Harry replied quietly, his worried thoughts still on the person in question.

"Why not?" Ms. Summers asked, her face filled with concern.

"Because . . . "

"Because aside from Fred, and George and I," Ginny responded, looking at her brothers quickly. "And three other people at school. Everyone, sort of, refuses to talk to her . . . or be nice to her, to be honest."

"Everyone?" Sirius asked. Not understanding how such a warm and funny girl like Buffy could be left virtually friendless. But by the nod Ginny was currently giving him in reply, it seemed it was actually possible.

Joyce knew it would be a little tough for Buffy to get back into the swing of things. Switching houses, being gone for as long as she had, it would be hard for anybody, but this . . . by the sound of it, Buffy was nearly being ostracized.

"Why?" Remus asked.

Ginny gave Buffy's mother a quick glance, before she replied. "Because, she wasn't exactly, the nicest person during her first two years at Hogwarts."

"How exactly was she?" Sirius asked.

"Well . . . you know the Malfoys?"

The knock on the door wasn't much of a surprise, but it was a little longer than she had expected. Which could only mean one thing. Her mom now knew the whole story.

"Buffy?" Joyce asked as she entered the room.

A pause later. "Yeah?" Came the muffled reply.

Closing the door gently behind her, Joyce found her daughter laying back on her bed with a pillow covering her face.

"Are you ok?"

"Smashing," she muffled again.

Walking over to the bed, Joyce took a seat near the end. "Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

"Not really."

"Buffy."

Giving a heavy sigh, Buffy resigned to the inevitable. Might as well get it over with now. Removing the pillow from her face, she hugged it against her as she sat up. Her eyes on her fingers as she fiddled with the edge of the pillow case.

"What do you want me to say, mom. You knew what I was like then," she dejectedly let out. "It's not exactly a surprise."

"Actually, it is."

Huh? Buffy immediately looked up with wide eyes. Her mother had a tendency to look the other way at times, but she wasn't that oblivious was she?

"Now don't get me wrong," she quickly explained. "I always knew you were a little . . . spoiled."

"A little?" Buffy asked with raised eyebrows.

"Okay a lot," Joyce smiled, causing Buffy to do the same. "But you were also a very sweet girl."

"Yeah, at home." She gave a deep sigh. "But at school . . . I was the Wicked Witch of the West. Hell, even Toto didn't stand a chance."

"I know," she nodded. "Ginny told us everything."

"And that's only from her point of view," she said, fiddling with the pillow case again. "She wasn't even there for half the stuff. The way I treated people . . . the things I would say . . . everything, all of it, just because it was fun for me. Getting them into trouble. Being a meany for no reason. I didn't care as long I got a kick out of it." Buffy hugged the pillow closer to herself. "But I guess I'm paying for it now, huh?"

Joyce looked at her daughter, who was refusing to meet her gaze. She had no idea of Buffy's previous behavior at Hogwarts. At least not until tonight. The teasing, the mocking, her sweet little girl used to be a downright bully. It's not something she had expected. But that was a long time ago. A very different Buffy.

"Honey," she said softly, reaching out to pull Buffy's hand in her own and causing her eyes to look up. "We all make mistakes. Especially when we're young."

"I know, but it's still no excuse is it?"

"No," she shook her head gently. "It's not. But I do blame your father."

Buffy snorted. "So do I."

"I should've never let him spoil you the way he did. Or let him drag you off to see the Malfoys so often," she frowned.

"I had fun there," she shrugged, "and Draco's not all bad. He kinda grows on you."

"A little too much it seems," she mumbled.

A frown tugged at the edge of her lips, but Buffy kept her mouth shut. Now was not the time to be defending Draco's behavior when she was barely explaining her own.

"But it wasn't just the Malfoys. It was that whole inner circle," Joyce continued. "I never wanted you to be exposed to those kinds of people. But your father insisted on it. 'To establish strong connections with the most powerful Wizards.'" She snorted. "Cruel, obnoxious, single minded, morons seems more fitting."

"Can't argue with you there," Buffy smirked.

"I always knew it wasn't a good idea."

"It's not your fault, mom. You always taught me to be nice, and respectful, and polite, and all proper like," she smiled. "But I was just too impressionable, I guess. Being around those people, they made it look fun. And I just wanted to fit in you know. And the more I did, the more dad would spoil me. I was his Little Princess. It's kinda hard not to get all wrapped up in it."

"I know," she nodded. "That's why I got out of it. If it wasn't for Remus I think I'd be stuck with those horrible people, maybe even behave like them," she shuddered.

"Well, see, now you can learn from my mistakes," Buffy nodded curtly.

"Shouldn't it be the other way around?" Joyce asked.

"Not in our freakishly abnormal world it doesn't."

They both gave short laugh, and a short while later Buffy found herself in her mother's embrace.

"You're a sweet and kind girl, Buffy. You always have been, and you always will be. You just lost yourself for a while, that's all."

Buffy hugged her mother tighter. "Thanks, mom. I love you."

"I love you, too, honey."

Relaxing into the comfort her mother brought, Buffy closed her eyes. "I'm not done hearing the end of this am I?"

"No," she said lovingly.

Meanwhile, on the second floor, Ron, Harry, and Hermione were currently discussing the night's interesting events. And omitted information.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Hermione asked.

"Because no one would have believed me that's why," Ron replied. "You saw how they defended her. Even my own mum thinks Buffy's the nicest person in the world."

"Not if you told them you heard it straight from Buffy's mouth," she said. "Heard her confess to the fact that she's been spying for Umbridge, maybe even the Ministry."

"Even if I did, it wouldn't matter."

"Why do you say that?"

"Come on, Hermione," he said, making it sound like it were obvious. "You heard how much the stood up for her when Ginny told them about how mean Buffy used to be. They kept saying how she was young. She didn't know better. If I would have told them about Umbridge, they would've said I heard it wrong. Mum, probably would have yelled at me for eavesdropping."

"But isn't it better if they know?"

"Not if they won't believe me," he resigned.

Silence fell over them as they thought back to minutes ago. Ginny telling the adults all about Buffy's previous behavior. The adults standing up for her honor. Ron reminding his sister and twin brothers about how she used to treat them, and them only stating that things were different now. Buffy wasn't like that anymore. It was frustrating to say the least.

"Harry?" Hermione asked.

Harry had been particularly quiet about the situation. Rarely speaking during the recount of events. Now he was sitting on his bed quietly, looking rather pensive.

"Yeah," he replied, sounding distant.

"You haven't said a word, are you all right?" she asked.

"I'm fine, just tired," he said offering her a ghost of a smile. "It's been a crazy night."

"You said it," Ron agreed.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's oblivious nature. Ron may be as blind as a bat, but she wasn't. The sly looks. Worried expressions. There was definitely something there between Buffy and Harry. What it was she didn't know, and trying to find out wouldn't be an easy task. That made her worry about Harry even more. If Buffy couldn't be trusted, who knows how much she could hurt him.

"You boys should get some sleep," she told them, rising to her feet. "We can talk about this tomorrow."

"If we live through the night," Ron mumbled.

"Honestly, Ron," she said, rolling her eyes.

Bidding goodnights, Hermione left to the room she shared with Ginny. Leaving Ron to fall immediately asleep. And Harry to stay up a little longer, finding it difficult to rest his eyes.

Reaching her room, Hermione closed the door quietly behind her, and quickly changed before moving beneath her covers. The thought nagging her brain until she spit it out.

"Ginny?" she whispered.

"Yes?" she whispered back in the darkness.

There was beat of quiet. Hermione chewing on her bottom lip as she wrestled with the question. Then firmly deciding she needed to know.

"Why do you trust her?"

There was a pause again. The question hanging heavy in the air.

"Because she's given me reasons to," Ginny answered firmly.

It was more than curiosity. It was worry. The Weasleys, Harry, Remus, Sirius, all of them where like a second family to her. She loved them. She just wanted to protect them. To make sure they didn't get hurt. "What . . . what are they?" she asked.

Ginny gave a tired sigh and snuggled deeper into her pillow. "Mine. Good night, Hermione."

That was when Hermione began to realize that in this house, unlike Hogwarts, Buffy was in the favor.

"Good night."

* * *

Note: Worried about reactions, again. :( But I'm guessing I would be a bad writer not to. I just don't want to disappoint that's all. Especially when I have people expecting certain chapters to come out a certain way. Gets me all jittery. But aside from that, I just want thank every single person for their reviews, and for still sticking with the story. Makes me all happy :)


	34. Chapter 34

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

Placing the pillow on her bed, she had a chance to smooth it out once before there came a knocking on her chamber door. And when she went to answer it an immediate smile came to her face.

"Good afternoon, we're from Weasley and Weasley."

"We've come looking for the lady of the house."

"Is your mother home, little girl?"

"We've got a few things we'd like to talk to her about."

"A few necessary items we'd like to show her."

"Items for the everyday woman."

"Beauty potions!"

"Love potions!"

"Cleaning potions!"

"Everything must go!"

"Okay, closing the door now," Buffy nodded slowly, and began to push the door closed.

"Oi!" Fred and George shouted, pushing back.

Pulling the door open again, and pretending to sigh in annoyance, she let them in. "All right. I guess, if you can't trust a pair of psychotic salesmen who can you trust?"

"Exactly," Fred said as she pointed a quick finger at her.

Clicking the door shut, Buffy went to join Fred and George as they made themselves comfortable on her recently made bed.

"We just came to let you know we've disowned, Ron."

"We would've kicked him out on the street if he weren't so defenseless."

"Poor thing would have starved to death if left on his own."

"That and mum threatened to take our wands away if we tried."

"Aw, thanks guys, that's sweet," she smiled. "Willing to throw out your own brother for my honor."

"What can we say?"

"We're just constantly thinking of others."

Buffy shook her head as she chuckled briefly. Missing the look the Twins silently exchanged, and the weighty expressions on their faces.

"Buffy," Fred began, waiting until he had her full attention, which kind of wigged her out when she noticed how serious they had become. "There's actually something else we wanted to talk to you about."

That caused her to worry. The Twins were rarely serious, if ever. "What is it?"

"It's nothing bad. It's just . . . "

"The other day, when we got here after hearing about what happened to dad. George and I, got into a sort of argument, with Sirius," Fred explained.

"A sort of argument?"

"After we heard what happened, we wanted to go to St. Mungo's right away to make sure dad was all right, but Sirius told us to wait," George replied. "And we didn't take it to well."

"We argued about it for a bit."

"Got into it about how much we wanted to go."

"But there's something else."

"It has something to do with the Order."

"Guys," she began, knowing where they were headed with this. "You know I can't--"

"You don't have to tell us anything too secretive, we promise."

"There was just something he told us, and well, we wanted to know if what was true."

She weighed her options. If they delved too much, she could just deny them an answer. They would understand. It's not like this is the first time they asked her about Order stuff.

"Okay," she agreed.

"Well, when we told Sirius that our dad could be dying, he said that dad knew what he was getting into."

"He told us that there are things worth dying for. That, that's the way it is."

"That we wouldn't understand. That's why we're not in the Order."

"We just wanted to know if he was right."

"About which part?" she asked in a heavy tone. Reminders of her past coming fast.

"About knowing what you're getting into when you join the Order."

Buffy looked down at the bedspread. She wasn't opposed to them knowing. It would better prepare them for the inevitable when Voldemort came out in the open. And the inevitable battle that came with. The question was however, would they really be able to understand without having experienced it.

"It's a silent oath kind of a deal. We all knew what we were getting into going in. The fact that death is a very real possibility is pretty much a gimme," she explained, then glanced up with deadly serious eyes. "You'd have to be willing to risk your lives. Could you do that?"

They both thought back to the D.A. "Yes," they answered simultaneously, a little too quickly for her liking.

"What about your mother's?" she asked, and their expressions immediately changed.

"What does she have to do with it?"

"She's in the Order, too."

"So?"

"So, there's a chance she could be sent off on a dangerous mission. Facing death and all kinds of hair-raising situations. And unfortunately, you can't be told where. No news or updates until you could see her again because it could ruin everything we've worked for. Could you handle that?"

Fred and George stood quiet as they imagined their mother fighting off a group of Deatheaters on her own. Their stomachs recoiled at idea.

Buffy noticed their near green expressions, and she knew they had gotten the message.

"It's not easy," she said heavily. "Knowing that someone you saw in the meeting one day, may not be there the next. People you care about, fighting for their lives while you're left to wait because discretion is the only thing we have in our playing field right now. Voldemort may be in hiding, but that doesn't mean he's turned into a kitten. People are missing, and Fudge, the idiot, refuses to acknowledge it. Which makes it even more dangerous. Joining the Order is like increasing your expiration date. And the hardest part isn't wether you'll be willing to risk your own life. It's if your willing to risk others. I should know." She lowered her eyes again and spoke in a pained voice. "My mother's in it, too."

Could they be able to handle it? Just the very idea of their mother in danger caused their throats to close up. Their stomachs to tie up in worry. When they were told their father was at St. Mungo's they'd wanted to rush off. Not thinking about the consequences about the fact that they knew before they were supposed to. And they knew then that Sirius was right. There were some things that they couldn't understand. It seemed that being in the Order was a lot more complicated then they thought. And involved more self-restraint than they realized.

"It's not as easy as we thought is it?" Fred asked, and Buffy shook her head in response.

"Well, what about the other thing?"

"What other thing?" she asked, raising her eyes again.

Fred hesitated for a bit. Part of him knowing what the answer would be. "Are there things worth dying for?"

A flash of the Master's face came to mind, another of Angel standing before a vortex with a sword sticking through him, her friends, her mother, and in a blink they were gone.

"Yeah," she replied thickly. "There are."

The atmosphere had taken a sorrow tone at her answer, and they fell into silence. The Twins wrapped up in everything they had just learned. And Buffy delving into the past she continued to try and forget.

Letting out a loud breath, and leaning back on his arms, Fred gave a short humorless snigger. "Well this turned out to be rather depressing didn't it?"

His comment caused the mood to lighten, and they began to chuckle lightly at the twist, the realization that it had definitely caused a gloom where it wasn't intended. What a way to start a morning.

"Now that we're all up and cheerful, how about some breakfast," George suggested, rising to his feet.

"I'm all for that," Buffy nodded, following his lead.

"All right, mates. Let's stuff our faces 'til we can't stuff 'em no more," Fred ordered as he marched out the door.

"Your brother's odd," she commented.

"If you think he's odd you should meet his twin," he winked.

Smiling from ear to ear, George and Buffy followed Fred out of the room, down the stairs, tiptoe past Mrs. Black's portrait, and into the kitchen.

"Look what we found," George announced, gaining the entire rooms attention.

"Can we keep her?" Fred asked.

"Are you willing to clean up after her?" Ms. Summers questioned as she helped Mrs. Weasley make breakfast.

"It's not an easy job, believe me," Remus stated as he sipped his coffee.

"So said the man who needs to be paper trained three nights out of the month," Buffy teased, as she sat beside him.

"You know she's talking about you," he told Sirius.

"She's right," Joyce commented, not once moving her eyes from the eggs she was scrambling.

"Been only a back a day and you've already got the whole house turned against me," Sirius stated.

"It's a gift," she shrugged.

It was natural. It flowed. They might as well be invisible. Harry, Ron and Hermione never felt so out of place. The witty banter seemed to breeze past them, and the once quiet morning had disappeared once Buffy came into the room.

"Buffy," Ginny greeted as she came into the kitchen. "I was looking for you."

"Sorry Ginny, we found her first," said Fred.

"And mum already said we could keep her," George added.

"Huh?"

"Their your brothers, do you really need to ask?" Buffy asked rhetorically.

Realizing she had a point, Ginny shrugged it off and took a seat next to Hermione. And when Ginny smiled at her, a very genuine one, Hermione was relieved that the girl hadn't turned a cold shoulder after last night. Something she had worried about when she woke up in the morning and Ginny was still asleep. Meaning there was no chance of asking if she was upset with her about last night's question or not. But by her friendly gesture, it seemed she had nothing to worry about. And she let out a breath in relief.

Meanwhile, Sirius was worried about the blonde that sat two seats away from him. She had looked so . . . vulnerable, last night. And he didn't like it. But now, she was smiling and behaving like the Buffy he knew and loved. Which for some reason caused him to worry even more. He knew Buffy had a tendency to suppress her feelings. Bottle them up until some unlucky demon or vampire came her way. And after hearing what he heard last night, Buffy may be bottling up an overload of feelings he was afraid would explode before she had a chance to vent them in her usual violent outlets.

"So, Goldi--"

There was a sudden loud clatter, startling everyone in surprise. And firmly ending Sirius's slip up.

"Sorry," Fred apologized. "Got away from me."

As Fred bent down to pick up his 'accidentally' dropped plate, which thankfully didn't smash, everyone who was in the know shot a look at Sirius. Who was by now realizing his mistake. Buffy had warned them that the young Potter, Granger, and Weasleys of the house were aware of an Order member being nicknamed Goldilocks. And were smart enough to put two and two together. So it was agreed upon that while they were around, Sirius was banned from using the name. Seeing as he was the only one to use it out of the meetings. A lot of good that did by the way.

"Breakfast is ready," Mrs. Weasley announced, setting plates of food on the table. Hoping to draw attention away from any curiosity at what Sirius was going to say. Which it did, for the majority at least. But there was always the one . . .

"All right let's dig in shall we?" Sirius remarked. Hoping to distract himself from the narrowed eyes of one Ms. Joyce Summers.

The noise level rose as the rest of the family sat down and breakfast time began.

"Thanks," Buffy whispered beside her to Fred, who only winked and continued to pile his plate with more food than it could handle.

Conversation flowed, laughs were made, and the morning wore on. It was comfortable for the most part. Mostly due to the fact that Ron ignored Buffy's presence, Harry kept silent as he sneaked peeks at the girl--something Hermione was aware of-- Buffy kept pretending that everything was Jim Dandy, with Ginny, Fred and George doing the same, and the adults were mentally rolling their eyes at the situation. Knowing better than to get involved and choose sides. It would sort itself out. Hopefully very soon.

Whoever said children were a blessing obviously didn't have any. Or spoke before those kids developed into teenagers.

The day proved to be uneventful. Buffy spent her time with Ginny and the Twins, Harry, Ron and Hermione were in their usual little circle, or triangle. And everyone else was doing who knows what. It wasn't until that evening that Buffy let herself actually relax.

"Ow."

"Serves you right," Remus muttered.

Sirius was rubbing his now sore upper arm, in between glaring at Remus and a chuckling Joyce.

"You're lucky I was holding back," Buffy stated.

"I already said I was sorry."

"No, you didn't," the three of them spoke at once.

"Well I am. It was a mistake. I wasn't thinking."

"There's a news flash," commented Joyce, causing another round of Sirius's glaring and Remus to smile at the jab.

The three of them had been gathered in Joyce's room when out of nowhere Buffy came in, and punched Sirius in the arm. A thank you for his thoughtfulness at breakfast that morning.

"Oh, sure pick--"

"On the fugitive, yeah, yeah," they all finished for him, and caused him to pout.

Flopping down on the bed, Buffy rested her head on Remus's shoulder. Who was sitting down and leaning back against the bed post.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

"How believable would I be if I said great?"

"Not very," Sirius answered.

"Could I pass with an okay?"

"Only if you meant it," Joyce replied.

"Than I'm okay," she said, and her mother smiled as she briefly cupped her hand against Buffy's cheek.

"You know you could've told us about this before," Sirius said, propped up against the head board with his legs crossed at the ankle.

"And ruin the excitement," she responded, sounding deflated.

"And let us help you," her mother said.

"It's not like you could've changed anything. Ron was going to have a fit wether he knew before hand or not," she replied. "And Hermione and Harry were going to keep pretending I didn't exist, just like they had been."

"That's not what I meant," she said softly. "I meant, about school."

"This is the whole, not hearing the end of it thing, isn't it?"

"We just want to make sure you're okay," Remus said.

"You should have told us you were miserable at Hogwarts," Sirius told her.

"I wasn't miserable, just a little, you know, lonely," she tried to brush off. "Besides it got better. After a couple of weeks I had Neville, then Ginny and Luna, then Fred and George, and I had Susie to start with, so it wasn't too bad."

"You still should've said something," Joyce said beside her.

"I know. I just didn't want to worry you."

"I'm your mother. It's my job to worry."

"And mine."

"And mine."

"Great, I come back home and not only do I reestablish a guardian, I gain another one. Well, at least now I know if I lost you, I've got back ups," Buffy said to her mother.

"Glad to know I'm so replaceable," she stated.

"Not even close," Sirius spoke genuinely.

Her mother blushed, Remus rolled his eyes, Sirius had a weird smile on his face, and Buffy was having a wiggins.

"Okay, I'm uncomfortable," she declared and rose to her feet. "I'm going to bed."

"Bed? It's early," Sirius commented.

"It's nearing eleven and there's only so much I can do in this house before I start counting my hair," she replied.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he smiled.

"You would," she retorted. "Good night."

"Good night," they echoed.

Kissing her mother on the cheek, Buffy exited the bedroom for her own down the hall.

"You haven't told her have you?" Remus asked.

"About what?" Sirius inquired in that innocent way he thought he could pull off.

"About your decision to become a woman, you know what."

"I've decided my legs aren't nice enough for dresses," he continued on. "I'm thinking of becoming a rabbit now."

"We haven't told her," Joyce answered. "Or Harry for that matter."

"Waiting until the wedding?"

"That's our plan."

Remus shook his head in amusement, and stood up. Stretching and yawning all the way.

"I guess I'll be following Buffy's lead and wish you all a goodnight," he gallantly bid, he even bowed and everything.

"Oh, come off," Sirius spoke, throwing a pillow in his direction and missing the target.

"Good night, Remus," Joyce smiled.

"Good night," he mirrored as he walked to the door. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do. You know what, never mind, just lock the door."

"Out!" Sirius ordered.

"See you in the morning." And then Remus was gone.

"We should tell them you know," Joyce voiced.

"I know," he agreed. "But we've got three weeks with them. That's plenty of time." Leaning forward he grabbed Joyce's hand and pulled her towards him. "In the mean time . . . "

There were giggles, chuckles, kisses and Sirius remembered to lock the door.

* * *

It was a party. Guests dressed to the nines everywhere she looked. Long white gloves, tuxedos and cigars. Large hoop skirts and fancy hair. Small glass cups filled with amber or something lighter, maybe stronger. The air filled with smoke, laughter and voices. And a sudden tingle went up her spine.

Looking around, Buffy tried to pinpoint her feeling. It was very familiar, intimate. She pushed through clusters of people who she seemed to be invisible to. Then she heard a voice. Deep and rich that haunted her dreams and memories. Sometimes nightmares. But she was too late.

Her eyes were wide with shock. His head dipped into the woman's neck for a brief moment, where Buffy knew would be the end, and then the body fell.

The blood still on his lips as he looked up. His eyes wide. The unnecessary breath hitching in his neck at the sight of her. Surprise and shame rolled into one.

_Angel_. The name echoing in her mind. _What have you done_?

Buffy awoke with a jerk. Her mind trying to stop itself from spinning. Her heart beating so fast against her chest, she felt like she had been running for miles. Blinking, she tried to adjust to the darkness, and she calmed when she realized she was in her room. But she could still see Angel's face as clearly as if she had seen him seconds ago. The ridges of his forehead. His lips dripping blood. His eyes golden and wide with shock. It felt real. So real. Like he was still alive. And it scared her. A small part of her heart beat in fear. But the most terrifying part was that she didn't know why. Angel was dead. And the dream meant nothing. Didn't it?

* * *

Note: Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, and the great support :) I really should just keep writing it how I planned to and not worry so much on wether people will hate it. Cause let's face it, I can't please everyone. And I know everyone's wondering when the Trio will find out about Buffy being the Slayer, and here's the warning...it won't be for a while. I don't want them to just find out she's the Slayer than say 'oh well you're a Slayer so that makes up for everything.' That doesn't do it for me. Anyway, thanks again for the reviews and I hope they'll be more coming.


	35. Chapter 35

**UnExpected**

by Amerie

_**The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black**__ . . . Phineas Nigellus . . . Elladora . . . Cygnus . . . Orion . . . Regulus . . . Bellatrix . . . Narcissa . . . _

"The Black Family Tree."

Harry turned immediately to the doorway at the sound of Sirius's voice. His grey eyes holding an unrecognizable look as he looked at the tapestry. A flurry of emotions passing over them. Almost as though they couldn't decide which one to settle on.

"You're not on here," Harry pointed out, as he turned back.

"I used to be," he responded, passing a finger over a small, charred hole that resembled a cigarette burn, "there." Folding his arms over his chest, Sirius raked his eyes over the entire wall. "My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home–Kreacher's quite fond of muttering the story under his breath."

"You ran away from home?"

"When I was about sixteen," he replied. "I'd had enough."

"Where did you go?"

"Your dad's place. Your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted me as a second son. Yeah, I camped out at your dad's in the school holidays, and when I was seventeen I got a place of my own. My Uncle Alphard had left me a decent bit of gold--he's been wiped off here, too," he said, then indicated to another burn spot, "that's probably why. Anyway, after that I looked after myself. I was always welcomed at Mr. and Mrs. Potter's for Sunday lunch, though."

"But . . . why did you . . . ?"

"Leave?" Sirius finished off. His voice and smile bitter. "Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal . . . my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them . . . that's him." He pointed at the very bottom of the tree, _Regulus Black_. A date of death, fifteen years prior, following the date of birth. "He was younger than me, and a much better son. As I was constantly reminded."

"But he died," Harry said.

"Yeah, stupid idiot," Sirius nodded. His voice wobbled undetectably for a second, and just like that, it passed. "He joined the Death Eaters."

"You're kidding!"

"Come on, Harry, haven't you seen enough of this house to tell what kind of wizards my family were?" said Sirius tersely.

"Were-were your parents Death Eaters as well?" he asked. Unbelieving that any member of Sirius's family, got themselves involved with Voldemort. Of course he didn't really know them, and was only going by the way Sirius presented himself. Which definitely did not scream Death Eater.

"No, no, but believe me, they thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having pure-bloods in charge. They weren't alone, either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colors, who thought he had the right idea about things . . . they got cold feet when they saw what he was prepared to do to get power, though. But I bet my parents thought Regulus was a right little hero for joining up at first."

"Was he killed by an Auror?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Oh, no," said Sirius. "No, he was murdered by Voldemort. Or on Voldemort's orders, more likely; I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person. From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death."

Sirius stepped closer to the tapestry. His eyes moving slowly over the names. Examining them closely.

"I haven't looked at this for years. There's Phineas Nigellus . . . my great-great-grandfather, see? . . . least popular Headmaster Hogwarts ever had . . . and Araminta Mehflua . . . cousin of my mothers . . . tried to force through a Ministry Bill to make Muggle-hunting legal . . . and dear Aunt Elladora . . . she started the family tradition of beheading house-elves when they got too old to carry tea trays . . . of course, any time the family produced someone halfway decent they were disowned. I see Tonks isn't on here. Maybe that's why Kreacher won't take orders from her--he's supposed to do whatever anyone in the family asks him--"

"You and Tonks are related?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Oh, yeah, her mother Andromeda was my favorite cousin," said Sirius. "No, Andromeda's not on here either, look--" He pointed to another small round burn mark between two names, Bellatrix and Narcissa. "Andromeda's sisters are still here because they made lovely, respectable pure-blood marriages, but Andromeda married a Muggle-born, Ted Tonks, so--"

Sirius mimed blasting the tapestry with a wand and laughed sourly. Harry, however, did not laugh; he was too busy staring at the names to the right of Andromeda's burn mark. A double line of gold embroidery linked Narcissa Black with Lucius Malfoy and a single vertical gold line from their names led to the name Draco.

"You're related to the Malfoys!"

"The pure-blood families are all interrelated," explained Sirius. "If you're only going to let your sons and daughters marry pure-bloods, your choice is very limited; there are hardly any of us left. Molly and I are cousins by marriage and Arthur's something like my second cousin once removed. But there's no point looking for them on here--if ever a family was a bunch of blood traitors it's the Weasleys." Harry was now looking at the name to the left of Andromeda's burn mark. Bellatrix Black, which was connected by a double line to Rodolphus Lestrange.

"Lestrange . . . " Harry said aloud. The name stirred something in his memory; he knew it from somewhere, but for a moment he couldn't think where, though it gave him an odd, creeping sensation in the pit of his stomach.

"They're in Azkaban," said Sirius shortly. "Bellatrix and her husband Rodolphus came in with Barty Crouch junior. Rodolphus's brother Rabastan was with them, too."

That's when Harry began to remember. He had seen Bellatrix Lestrange inside Dumbledore's Pensieve, the strange device in which thoughts and memories could be stored. A tall dark woman with heavy-lidded eyes, who had stood at her trial and proclaimed her continuing allegiance to Lord Voldemort, her pride that she had tried to find him after his downfall and her conviction that she would one day be rewarded for her loyalty.

"You never said she was your--"

"Does it matter if she's my cousin?" snapped Sirius. "As far as I'm concerned, they're not my family. She's certainly not my family. I haven't seen her since I was your age, unless you count a glimpse of her coming into Azkaban. D'you think I'm proud of having a relative like her?"

"Sorry," said Harry quickly, "I didn't mean--I was just surprised, that's all--"

"It doesn't matter, don't apologize," Sirius mumbled. He turned away from the worn out tapestry, took a deep breath, and ran a hand through his hair. His frustration, anger, and emotions he wouldn't let himself admit, being forced to go back to their neutral corners.

Harry, felt like he had intruded. Stepped over an invisible boundary that should never be crossed. Which was why he avoided looking at Sirius at the moment. Instead he kept his eyes on the Black Family Tree, where almost everyone on it was the opposite of what Sirius stood for. Looking at the names, he couldn't help but linger on Bellatrix. Her words of devotion to Voldemort ringing from his memory. Bringing up the fears he still held. He knew he wasn't possessed by Voldemort, but that didn't mean that whatever connection they held didn't frighten him. They were connected, and he didn't know how far it went. Or would go. Which lead to a tremendous amount of questions no one was willing to give him the answers to. The most vulnerable part of him was being invaded, and what if, somehow, certain aspects crept in that he wasn't aware of.

"Sirius," he quietly said. "This connection between me and Voldemort . . . what if the reason for it is that I'm becoming more like him? I just feel so angry, all the time, and . . . what if everything I've been through, something's gone wrong inside of me? What if I'm becoming bad?"

"I want you to listen to me very carefully, Harry," Sirius told him, grabbing both of his shoulders firmly. "You're not a bad person. You're a very good person, who bad things have happened to. Besides, the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters. We've all got both light and dark inside of us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are."

"But--"

There was a knock on the door, halting his words, and opening up to reveal someone he hadn't spoken to once since he had arrived.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean--" Buffy apologized when it looked like she had interrupted what looked liked a moment.

"No, no, it's all right," said Sirius, removing his hands from Harry's shoulder. "Did you need something?"

"Aaaa . . . " she dragged out, her eyes on Harry. Who had his eyes on her as well. Which caused Sirius quite a bit of amusement. "I was . . . " she said, then snapped out of her non-train of thought, and refocused on Sirius again. "I was actually looking for my mom. Have you seen her?"

"She was in the dinning room the last I saw her," he replied, a wide grin on his face.

"I already checked there," she mumbled, moving her eyes downward as she wondered where her mother could be. When she looked back up, she finally noticed Sirius's wide smile. "What's got you all Joker?"

The grin immediately fell off his face at his confusion. "What?"

"Why are you all smiley?"

"Why didn't you just say that in the first place?"

"Cause it was more fun my way," she smiled peppily.

"Go look for your mother," he ordered.

"Grouch," she told him, and before disappearing from the room Buffy looked at Harry. Giving him a shy and friendly smile. Nervously, and blushing slightly, Harry did the same. And once again Sirius's grin made its presence.

"So," he began once Buffy was gone. "What exactly is going on between you two?"

Harry's wide eyes, and pinked cheeks, immediately snapped away from the door, and to Sirius's amused face. "W-what do you mean?"

"Well, it's obvious Ron and Hermione don't like her. Ginny, Fred, and George naturally adore her. And you . . . you haven't said a single word about her. Or to her, I've noticed. Not to mention the not so sneaky glances you two share."

Harry scratched the back of his neck. Moved from one foot to another, and most importantly, had absolutely no idea how to answer that question. "I, uh, I don't know."

"Don't know what?" he asked.

"Don't know what's going on," Harry answered honestly.

"Are you friends?"

"We . . . were," he said, his voice sounding a little saddened.

"What happened?"

"She left," he replied, keeping the letter writing part to himself.

Sirius didn't miss the crestfallen look on Harry's face, despite his surprise of hearing about Buffy and Harry's once friendship. From the way Ginny and Ron had explained things the other night, it seemed Harry was not too fond of the blonde girl. But apparently Buffy and Harry were once close. A fact he was sure no one else knew about.

"Have you tried to talking now?"

Harry couldn't help but let out a small humorless chuckle. "Yeah, we've tried. But, it seems like we can't have a single conversation without ending up in an argument."

"Why's that?"

"There are some things, in the way, or there were," he explained. Feeling slightly uncomfortable talking about it. "Anyway, the last time we talked it made me realized I had behaved like an idiot. And I haven't really gotten the opportunity to apologize."

"I can see that. It's not like you're both stuck in the same house together for many days to come. With nothing to do but figure out how to spend your enormous amount of free time," he sarcastically said.

Harry grinned. "I get your point."

"Good, now lets go get you some food," he smiled, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "And don't worry, those Summers girls were never ones to stay angry. Believe me, I know."

Exiting the room and quietly going down the stairs, not really up for dealing with Mrs. Black's screaming, they made their way to the basement.

"All right, I'm starving, what's for dinner?" Sirius so gentlemanly asked as they walked into the kitchen. Then noticed the stove side was empty of its usual occupants. "Where are Joyce and Molly?"

"In the pantry getting a few things," Hermione answered, and as if on cue, the two ladies made their appearance.

"Is that all we're good for?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Making dinner?" Joyce added.

"Sorry, but I've learned not to answer those kinds of questions," Sirius replied, sitting in his usual seat at the head of the table. "Your daughter's been looking for you by the way," he told Joyce.

"Buffy?" she asked.

"No, Muffy," Sirius replied. "Exactly how many daughters do you have?"

"Eight, by my last count," Remus said, his eyes still on his copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Well, dinner is almost ready," Mrs. Weasley informed everyone as she put something into a pot. "Only a few more minutes."

Harry took his seat next to Ron and Hermione, across the table from Ginny and the Twins. And they were all in the beginnings of a conversation when the door opened. And Harry couldn't remember the last time a door opened where Buffy wasn't standing on the other side.

"Look who I ran into," she announced.

"Wotcher, everybody!" Tonks greeted enthusiastically.

"Tonks!" The group greeted back, well mainly the teens. The adults stated their proper 'hello's, as mature adults tend to do.

"What are you doing here?" asked Ron.

"Actually, I came here to see, Buffy." Of course she was, and the edges of Ron's mouth dipped into a frown. "And to take her away if that's all right?"

Joyce immediately stopped her chopping and gave the girls her full attention. Her eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion. "Take her away where?"

"Just out, for a bit of fresh air," Tonks said cryptically.

"Uh, huh," she mumbled, knowing perfectly well of what they considered 'fresh air.'

"Please, mom. I could so go for some good, old-fashioned, fresh air," Buffy pleaded. "To fill up the lungs and get away from all the stuffy."

"Hey!" Sirius protested.

"All right, dilapidated."

"That's better."

"What about dinner?" Joyce asked.

"Not that hungry," she answered. "Besides I can always eat something when I come back. Please?"

She didn't like it. It was a dangerous time right now. But at least she wouldn't be alone, and Buffy could do with being out for a while. Joyce had noticed how fidgety Buffy had become lately. Especially around her wand and other pointy things.

"All right," she reluctantly agreed. "But, don't stay out too late."

"I won't. Scouts honor," she grinned.

"Can I come, too?" Ginny asked.

"No!" Came the urgent shout from various sources.

The others jumped in surprise at the noise. Looking around and noticing the near dreaded look in their eyes, they had a feeling they were missing something.

"Sorry, Gins. Maybe next time," Buffy tried to appease, which garnered her a shocked eye from Mrs. Weasley at the very idea. "I-I mean, if it's okay with your mom."

Which would most likely be never. Given the kind of dangerous situations going out with those two might cause. Not like they'd ever tell Ginny, who was becoming very suspicious about the whole situation.

"Okay, so I'll see you guys later," Buffy said excitedly as she backed up to the stairs. "Save me some dinner okay."

"Well, it was nice seeing you lot again," Tonks followed, mimicking Buffy's behavior. "I'll try to stop by again, soon. Maybe stay for dinner next time."

"Be careful," Joyce told them.

"Very careful," Mrs. Weasley tacked on.

"Extremely careful," Remus added.

"Have fun," Sirius grinned.

"We will. Bye," Buffy said quickly, and with a final wave the girls were gone.

That was weird. Very, very weird. The brief worried looks Ms. Summers and Mrs. Weasley exchanged. The urgent 'No!' they all shouted when Ginny had wanted to join them. Not to mention the way the girls had acted, which was more than just casual. They acted like they had somewhere to be.

"How long have Buffy and Tonks known each other?" Ron asked.

"A while," Remus cryptically replied.

"Do they go out a lot?" Hermione inquired.

"Not. A lot," Sirius answered. "Just, when they can."

"Where do they go?"

But before they had a chance to answer, Molly's voice stopped anymore prodding. Much to their appreciation.

"All right everyone. Dinner's ready!" she announced, setting food down on the table, and when Sirius and Remus caught the eyes of Joyce and Molly, they realized that the announcement was not coincidental.

* * *

Walking down the street, Buffy twirled the wand in her hand. Her eyes peeled, and senses alert.

"So, any updates?" she asked.

"Not many," Tonks replied. "Which I guess could be a good thing, or a bad thing. Depending on how you look at it."

"Mr. D hasn't said anything about the attack?"

"He definitely believes it was You-Know-Who's snake that done it," she answered, stumbling over a fallen branch before regaining her balance. "Everyone does, but it's not like we can catch the slimy thing."

"Why would we wanna catch it?"

"Help us to figure out what's wrong with, Arthur," she grimly said.

"Right," Buffy mumbled.

They walked in silence as they thought about Mr. Weasley. Hoping the doctors would find a cure for his wounds soon.

"So, we got anything yet?" Tonks asked excitedly.

Buffy couldn't help but chuckle at her enthusiasm. It's not like this was the first time Tonks had taken Buffy out to get some 'fresh air'. Tonight would total up to four, and more to come if Tonks had her way. The girl just loved her danger.

"Not yet, but the closer we get to . . . "

Her words trailed away when she saw it. A bleached, blond head off in the distance, and a cloud of puffed smoke.

"What?" Tonks asked, following Buffy's line of vision.

There was no tingle, but then again, she was too far away. Keeping her eyes on the 'could be', Buffy waited for the person to turn around. But instead, it blended into a group of people who apparently decided to risk their lives by hanging out in a dark park at this time of night. Squinting her vision she tried to see any traces, but they were gone. Might as well. It definitely couldn't have been who she thought it was. Or at least she hoped it wasn't.

"Nothing," Buffy replied.

"That's too bad," she said disappointedly.

"Yeah," she muttered distractedly, still wondering. But soon refocused her attention as they continued on their hunt. "But the night's still early. Who knows? We might even run into a whole pack of 'em. Maybe even a nest."

"Really?"

"Sure," she nodded. "Come on, let's go try and get you killed."

With an extra spring in her step, Tonks followed Buffy further down the street. Making their usual way to the dark and seedy parts of the city. Where vampires and other nightly creatures liked to visit . . . for some takeout.

"So, how's school?"

"School's great, life however . . . " Her spidey-sense was tingling. Glancing around, she found a girl who obviously believed the Madonna look was still in. Such, dead give away. No pun intended. ". . . life is about to become a whole lot more interesting. Ready?"

"Willing and able," she curtly nodded, smiling like it were Christmas morning.

One thing was for sure. Tonks was one very strange and interesting girl.

* * *

"And?" asked Fred.

"What do you mean, and?" Ron asked irritated.

"Well, you don't expect it to be true, do you," George said.

"Of course it's true!"

After dinner, the group had gathered up in Ron and Harry's room. Much to the insistence of Hermione, who had decided that it was time that Ginny, Fred and George knew about Buffy and Umbridge. Before, according to her, they trusted her any more than they already did.

"Ron heard it from Buffy herself, how much more proof do you need?" Hermione inquired.

"We didn't ask for proof," Fred replied.

"We just know it isn't true," said George.

"Buffy, wouldn't be spying for Umbridge."

"Or the Ministry."

"Or anyone else."

"I can't believe this," Ron said, shooting up from his seat on the bed. "You would believe, Buffy, someone who used to treat us like dirt, treated us like we were nothing, over your own brother!"

"Ron, this has nothing to do with that," Fred said calmly.

"Than what does it have to do with?"

"Look," he tried to explain, "things with, Buffy . . . they're different now."

"She's not the same as she was back then."

"And we just know, that she wouldn't do those things."

It was frustrating. Irritating. And most importantly, it hurt. It hurt that they would choose her side over his. He was their brother, had been there for them since he could remember. How could they just dismiss everything she had done, and make him out to be the bad guy. They were family. And it felt like they were turning their backs on him.

"I know what I heard. And I know I'm right. Buffy, has been spying on us, telling Umbridge, and Malfoy everything she knows," he firmly said. His jaw tight with anger. "And you're idiots for trusting her!"

"We're the idiots?!"

"We're not the ones holding on to a five-year-old grudge!"

"People change, Ron!"

"People like her don't change!"

"How would you know?"

"You haven't given her a chance!"

"I don't need to give her a chance!"

"Than you're the idiot!"

"Stop it, stop arguing!" Hermione shouted.

The room had gone quiet. Ron left as red-faced as the Twins. This did not turn out the way they had hoped.

"I'm sure you heard right," said Fred quietly. "But things aren't as always as they seem."

"Why do you trust her?" Ron asked tersely.

Fred and George looked at each other. They had been sworn to secrecy. Which meant no matter how much they wanted to tell Ron, they couldn't.

"Why do you dislike her so much?" George asked.

Ron, didn't say a word. The others noticing how tense his face had become.

They weren't going to get an answer. They knew that. And they were really tired of having this discussion. Ron wasn't going to get it. Not unless he knew everything about Buffy, but unfortunately they were in no position to tell him.

"This isn't personal, Ron," Fred voiced as he began to walk over to the door.

"It's really not. Things are just different now," George added, following his brother.

They paused at the doorway. Not being able to leave without saying one last thing.

"Word of advice, you should really let go of all that anger."

"It's not doing you any good."

"Besides, it's starting to make your hair look red."

And they were gone. Silence in their trail.

Ginny, looked down at the floor. She hadn't said a single word throughout any of it. She didn't want to believe it. Buffy was her friend now, and she trusted her. But what if what Ron said was true? Why would Buffy say those things? She wasn't as sure as the Twins seemed to be, for reasons unknown to her. And it bothered her that she had to question Buffy's loyalty. Things were going so well, and now . . . now she was left unsure, and she didn't like it.

Rising from her seat, Ginny looked Ron squarely in the eye. "Are you absolutely positive that's what she said?"

Her voice was low and her eyes were pleading for him to say no. And for that moment, just for her, he really wanted to. But Ron couldn't lie. Not if it meant it would hurt her in the long run. So, he nodded. His face and eyes no longer tense in anger.

Sadly, Ginny gave a tired nod and turned around. Her shoulders slumped as she made her way out, and to her room.

"Ron, are you okay?" Hermione asked tentatively.

He hated seeing Ginny that way. But she needed to know.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied quietly.

Hermione shared a worried look with Harry. In which he gave her a small nod, indicating it was all right for her to go. He would look after Ron.

"Okay," she said, making her way out. "Good night, then."

"Good night," they both mumbled.

They were alone now. Maybe that would help.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Harry asked him again.

Ron didn't say anything as he moved to his bed. Taking off his shoes and climbing beneath the covers.

"I'm tired," he said. "I'm going to sleep."

"Okay," Harry said, concern filling his voice. "Good night."

"Good night," he replied out of habit.

With his head on his pillow, Ron thought back to what his brothers had told him. '_We're not the ones holding on to a five-year-old grudge_!' '_People change, Ron_!' '_Why do you hate her so much_?' And with all those words swirling around in his head, Ron thought back to the one moment where his strongest reason for disliking Buffy, had started.

* * *

Second year . . .

Heavily into the book he was reading, much to his own surprise, Ron wasn't paying attention to where he was going. His eyes on the engrossing words about Succubi, as he maneuvered himself through the library. Causing the inevitable crash into someone else.

"Oh, sorry I--" Ron began to apologize, but then realized who he was going to apologize to. And that wasn't happening. "Oh, it's you. In that case I'm not sorry."

"You know it's funny that you think I care," she said.

"It's funny thinking you care about anything but yourself," he spat.

Buffy smiled, and he didn't like it at all.

"And you would know what's funny, wouldn't you, Weasel," she said, in that sweet, sugary voice of hers. "Oh wait, no, that's actually Fred and George isn't it? Well, at least you're the smartest, no wait, that's Bill and Percy. The bravest? No, that's Charlie. You're not even the baby. Just stuck in the middle to take up space. Nothing but a burden, and a waste. Harry Potter's useless best friend. At least Granger's got the brains of your little group. What is it exactly that you do? Besides get in the way, I mean."

Ron glared. His face turning red. And Buffy kept right on smiling.

"Nothing to say?" she asked innocently. "That's not a surprise. Because when it comes to nothing, Ron, you would know more about that than anybody."

She slid past him, and Ron stood rooted to the spot. His insecurities out in the open, by someone he couldn't stand. And what was worse, was that anytime she was caught staring at them, and they would ask her what she wanted, she would look Ron straight in the eye and mutter that horrible word that hurt more than he would lead on. 'Nothing.' Her meaning heavy. Bothering him each time she said it. And she knew it. Enjoyed it even. Because that's who Buffy was. And no matter what they say. People like that never change.

* * *

Note: Thanks for all the great reviews! Sorry for taking so long on the chapters, but I made this one extra long just for you! More reviews please!


	36. Chapter 36

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

Two days before break . . .

"You're late."

"You would be too if Pansy kept pestering you about where you were going," he said, his voice still traced with annoyance.

"I'm surprised you were able to get away then."

"Wasn't easy. Trust me," he huffed out. Hopping onto a desk across from her, he placed his school bag down and let himself relax. "Now what I'm surprised about is the fact that you still haven't landed yourself in detention again."

Buffy let out an annoyed huff all her own. "Isn't easy. Trust me."

"Oh believe you," he said with big wide eyes, causing her to smile. "You know some people are starting to wonder why you only got one detention. And why your hand didn't scar like everyone else's."

"I know. Those never-ending whispers never end." Never ever, ever. "But I just ignore them. It's not like I'm going to spill the truth to the gossip mill," she jokingly said.

"And what is the truth?" he grinned.

Playfully, Buffy shifted her eyes from side to side. Checking for 'spies'.

"If I tell you will you promise not to tell anybody else?" she asked, leaning closer.

"You know I won't."

She eyed him comically, and Draco was doing his best not to laugh.

"All right . . . well, I'm really a spy for Umbridge and the whole thing during Care of Magical Creatures was a just setup so no one would be onto us," she said, sounding secretive.

"So it was all just a ruse?" he asked, trying to sound shocked.

"Of course. Did you actually think she would give me, her favorite student, detention? Please, all I did that night was spill the beans on my fellow classmates and waited long enough until I could go up to my room so no one would be the wiser," her haughty voice replied.

"Very sneaky."

"It is what I do best," she arrogantly said.

"Guess it's true what they say, once a--"

A loud clanging noise was heard, and they jumped in surprise.

"What was that?" she asked.

Draco shrugged, and Buffy slid off the desk. Cautiously walking over to the door, she slowly pried it open and peaked out. Left, right, up, down, nothing. Strange. Closing the door behind her, she turned back.

"Well?" he asked.

"Nothing," she replied. "Guess whatever, or whoever it was, is gone now."

"It was probably Filch's cat."

"Yeah," she mumbled. Not fully convinced.

* * *

They were acting weird. Fred and George weren't talking to Harry, Hermione or Ron. Ginny was acting strange around her. Sirius was looking at her weird. Harry seemed to be ignoring her on purpose. And Buffy was wondering what the hell happened last night.

Wandering around the house, Buffy finally managed to run into Ginny, who had been avoiding her all day.

"Hey," she greeted smiling.

"Hi," she said back. Her voice flat and un-welcoming.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

Buffy scrunched her eyebrows together, wondering if she was the reason for the hostility. Given Ginny's behavior, and cold shoulder lately.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"I don't know, did you?" she retorted.

Her voice was uncaring and nearly cold that Buffy almost flinched.

"Are you mad at me or something?"

"Why would I be mad at you, it's not like you've done anything wrong right?"

"Okay," she drawled. What was going on?

"Look, I've gotta go. I told Hermione I'd help her out with something," she said, and before Buffy had a chance to respond, Ginny was already heading down the stairs. Leaving Buffy standing there confused.

"It's not your fault."

Turning around, she found Fred and George standing behind her. Leaning against a doorway.

"Ron, told us something last night."

"And she obviously believed him."

Great, cause Ron always had such nice things to say about her. He was her number one fan after all. "What did he say?"

"He told us you were a spy for Umbridge."

"He said I was a what?!"

Her voice echoed slightly over the third floor corridor. And all three of them waited, but no bloodcurdling screams were heard. Phew.

"Come on," Fred ordered, leading them into the Twins bedroom.

"That's insane!" Buffy outraged, walking over to one of the beds and plopping down. "Why would he say that?"

"He told us he overheard you telling, Malfoy."

"He was spying on me?!" Oh, this was just getting better and better.

"Well, I don't think it's a secret he doesn't trust you."

"Yeah, but to spy on me?"

"He said he saw you going into a room with, Malfoy."

"And you have to admit that is a little strange."

"What were you doing with him anyway?" George inquired curiously.

"Talking," she offhandedly replied.

"About what?"

"I don't know. Stuff."

The Twins glanced at each other. How very, very curious.

"Are you friends with, Malfoy?" asked Fred, pulling a face.

"Don't look at me like that," she said. "We were friends once, you know."

"Yeah, but that was then."

"You've got much better taste now."

She couldn't help but grin, knowing her friendship with Draco was one they wouldn't understand. "Draco's been part of my life for a long time. We've known each other since we were kids. Practically group together. He may be a spoiled, self-centered, arrogant prat, but he's my friend. One of my closest friends. And I . . . I'm not exactly gonna give him up just because things have changed. He means too much to me."

Fred and George have never heard anybody talk the way about Draco. It was weird. And, uncomfortable. But it was obvious Buffy cared about him. Though they couldn't understand for the life of them why.

"We don't trust him. Just so you know."

"Or like him."

"Or plan to befriend him anytime soon."

"I know," she said. "I wouldn't expect you, too. But I am hoping you'd at least respect it."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, that you'd still be my friends even if you don't like him."

Hands on their chins, Fred and George mulled it over. Supposedly. But by their over exaggerated demeanor she knew she was safe.

"All right," Fred said sternly. "We're willing to look past this brief stint of insanity."

"As long as we don't have to be nice to him."

"Or treat him like an actual human being."

"Fair enough," she grinned. "I wasn't expecting miracles here."

"He doesn't know about you and . . . "

"No. No, no, no. Definitely no." She may trust Draco, but there were some things she definitely knew he shouldn't know. He was after all, attached to some very evil people. That didn't bode well in her faith on trusting him explicitly. Which, in her opinion, completely sucked. "All he knows was that I used to live in California, and that I came back because my mom got homesick. And that's all he'll ever need to know."

"Good girl."

"Always knew we could trust you."

They both gave curt nods and reaffirming smiles, as they sat down on either side of her.

"So, what else did your dear old brother say?" she asked, not sure if she wanted to know. "I have some idea but . . . "

"Well, he told us that you didn't serve detention like everyone else."

"That's why you only got the one."

"Because all you did was tell Umbridge, _everything_ you knew about us."

"And that's why your hand didn't scar."

"And that we're idiots for trusting you."

"That's rubbish," she nearly spat. "I--"

"We know," said Fred. "You told us."

"Which is why we don't believe him."

"But unfortunately Ginny does."

"She doesn't know the whole truth remember."

"Yeah, but even if, she should know me by now," she muttered upset.

"She probably should, but Ginny's a very loyal person."

"She expects the same in return."

"And to be honest, if George and I didn't know what we know, we would've believed Ron, too."

"I mean, he did hear it straight from you."

"It's called the benefit of a doubt," she told them. "Or at least a chance to explain before she made up her mind. It's not like I was serious when I told Draco those things."

"That's what we figured."

Propping her elbows on her knees, Buffy buried her face in her hands. The holidays were definitely not off to a good start. And thanks to Ron's bitterness, something she knew she was in fault for, Buffy may have lost a friend. Who may have potentially graduated to one of her best. 'Tis the season to be jolly all right.

Fred and George looked at each other. Concerned over the tiny blonde girl between them. She just had to go and worm herself right into their cold, prank-filled hearts didn't she.

"It's okay, Buffy," George gently said.

"Don't worry about it."

"We'll talk to her."

Snapping her head up, she looked at the two hopefully. "Really?"

"Yeah."

It was at this very moment, for the very first time, that Buffy was actually thankful for the fact that Fred and George had heard something that they shouldn't have heard, leading them to black mail her into a corner, forcing her to spill her guts while using open-ended threats of exposing things they shouldn't have known in the first place. Isn't it great how things just work out?

"Thanks guys," she smiled, wrapping an arm around each of them to hug them as best she could.

"I could get used to this," Fred commented, and before she knew what hit her, Buffy was being buried underneath two Weasleys and laughing as she fought for air.

It was eleven p.m., and still no Ginny. Either the Twins were still trying to convince her, which was not a good sign, or she didn't believe them and was refusing to speak to her, which was even worse. Sitting in a chair, Buffy looked out the window dazedly. Her eyes unfocused as her mind wandered through a million different questions. Was Ginny ever going to speak to her again? Would she tell Neville and Luna? Would they believe her? Would this Harry thing ever work itself out? Where was her dad? Did he miss her? Did he ever think of her? What was Willow thinking at this very moment? Did Xander just a make joke she would never get to hear? Was Faith a better slayer than she was? Was Giles training her right now? Were they bonding? Was she being replaced? If Angel were alive right now what would he tell her? If she had never killed him would things still have changed? Would she have come back?

"Honey?"

Buffy spun around quickly. She didn't even hear her mother knock.

"Yeah?"

"Are you all right?" she asked, closing the door behind her. "You were awfully quiet during dinner, and you haven't come down since excusing yourself."

"I'm fine," she said automatically. "I just wanted to be alone with my thoughts for a bit."

"That's a very dangerous place to be," she said.

"Tell me about it."

Joyce placed her hands comfortingly on Buffy's shoulders. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," she shrugged. "It's just a bunch of stuff I've stored away in my head for later. And later seemed to catch up with me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she said, looking up to her mother's beautiful face. "But thanks."

"Any time," she smiled lovingly. "I'm always around. Even when you don't want me to be."

"Never gonna happen."

Leaning down, Joyce kissed her daughter on the forehead.

"You'd better get some rest," she advised. "Tomorrow is a big day. It's the first Christmas Sirius, will be spending with a full house in a very long time."

"Trust me, I know. He's been bouncing around this place with so much cheer I'm starting to wonder if he's on drugs or something."

Joyce paused on the imagery. "Sirius on drugs," she muttered.

"Scary," Buffy said, and they both gave a shiver.

"Get some sleep," Joyce said again. "I'll see you in the morning."

With one last motherly kiss on the head, they bade good night and Buffy was left on her own once again. Staring out the window with her million thoughts.

* * *

_Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way_!

Christmas morning. Snow covered ground. Children were waking. Presents were being opened. Good times were being had by all. Except for those who were still asleep in their soft warm beds. But that wasn't going to last. Because with the burst of a door opening . . .

"_Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa la la la la, la la la la!_

'_Tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la, la la la la!_"

Buffy groaned and pulled the pillow over her head.

"_Don we now our gay apparel, fa la la, la la la, la la la!_"

"I am going to shoot you," she said, her voice rough with sleep. "I am going to turn this pillow into a bazooka and shoot you."

"_Toll the ancient Christmas carol, fa la la la la, la la la la!_"

Sirius, wearing a Christmas hat, hopped onto the bed and pulled the pillow away from her face. "Happy Christmas!"

"You know what religion's good," she said, rolling to her side, away from him. "Judaism. I bet you would make a great Jewish person."

"Up, up, up!" he ordered cheerfully. Annoyingly.

"No. Tired. Need sleep."

"Come on, Goldilocks. It's Christmas!"

"No it's sleeping-mas. And you're not supposed to call me that," she said amidst her yawn.

"You've got presents," she heard Remus say.

Her eyes popped open and she hopped to her feet. "What are we waiting for?"

"Told you that would work," he told Sirius.

At the foot of her bed she found brightly wrapped presents. Shiny purple, blue, red, green wrapped presents that were waiting to be opened. Sitting down cross-legged, she picked up a nice big green one and began to open it.

"So, you guys are just gonna sit there and watch me open present?" she asked

"Well, we've already popped in on everyone else's. It's your turn," Sirius explained.

"Where's mom?"

"Downstairs comforting, Molly."

With her hands on a cardboard lid she paused. "What happened?"

"Percy, sent back the jumper she gave him," Remus said. "Without a single note of explanation. Not even to ask how his father was doing."

"He's still being an ass?" she asked, still angry of how he was treating his mother. His family. All for Fudge. Moron.

"I'm afraid so, but we're doing all we can to cheer her up."

"Fred and George tried, we tried, and now Joyce is giving it a go."

"Maybe I should--"

"No, you've got presents to open," Sirius stopped her. "Besides, Molly would feel like you'd be putting yourself out. And she wouldn't have it. She'll be all right."

"Are you sure?" she wondered unsurely.

"Definitely," Remus smiled.

Her mood had dampened and opening presents didn't seem so shiny anymore.

"Hey, she'll be fine," Remus assured her. "And you've already torn the paper off of that one. Might as well open it."

Looking down, she realized her hands were still on the white lid. Might as well, right? Taking it off, and underneath red tissue paper, Buffy found a soft red scarf with small pink B's all over it. Along with a pair of matching gloves and a knitted beanie.

"Must be from, Molly," Sirius smiled.

"Ooh, pretty," she said and rubbed the scarf against her cheek. "Oh, and soft. I likes."

"She usually gives jumpers," Remus informed her. "But I guess she figured you weren't the jumper type."

"Open the next one," Sirius quickly said.

Smiling at the enthusiasm, Buffy put the items back in the box and went to open up a red one.

"From: Mom," she said, reading the small paper label. Tearing it open she dug into green paper and found a beautiful cream, cashmere sweater wrapped around something that made her immediately giddy.

"What is it?" asked Remus.

"Looks like a piece of paper to me," Sirius said.

"It's a voucher valid for one shopping trip," Joyce said from the doorway. "All the clothes she could get."

Leaping up to her feet, Buffy raced to her mother, and hugged her fiercely. "Thanks, mom."

"Figured you'd like it."

"Well, that's not fair," Sirius grumbled.

"You've gone and out done us," Remus pouted.

"I'm her mother. It's my right."

Sitting back down on the floor, Buffy grabbed packages and opened presents she did. A fancy dagger with holster, and a box of fudge from Tonks. A bell and some chocolates from Hagrid plus 'One'. A box of working prototypes from the future Weasley's joke shop, and some Chocolate Frogs from Fred and George. A surprising one from Mad-Eye, which included an arm holster for her wand. And finally, from Sirius and Remus, a book called '_Practical Defensive Magic and it's Use Against the Dark Arts_', which they told her they had given to Harry as well. Also, a few more cd's they knew she'd like, a box filled with a variety of candies and chocolates from Honeydukes.

"All right, that's the load," Sirius commented.

"Thanks, guys," Buffy smiled, rising to her feet.

"Your welcome," Remus said, hugging her.

"You'd better hurry up and change. The food should be ready any minute now," Joyce told her.

"Okay. I'll meet you guys downstairs."

Sirius hugged her. Her mother hugged her. And then they were gone. Washing her face, brushing her teeth, brushing her hair and a wardrobe change later, she was down the downstairs.

The house was almost unrecognizable. Garlands of holly hung from light fixtures and chandeliers. Gold, silver and red streamers bringing glimmer to the darkest of spots. A wonderful smelling Christmas tree, thanks to Mundungus, decorated with live fairies resided in the drawing room. The stuffed elf-heads that rested on the wall looking morbidly festive with their Christmas hats. It made her spirits even brighter. And she decided all the troubled mess she had lately could disappear for the time being. There was always tomorrow.

Walking into the kitchen, she found the whole lot sitting around the table. With Mrs. Weasley by the stove.

"Mrs. Weasley," she said gently, walking over to her and fully aware everyone was watching. "I just wanted to thank you for the present. It was really nice of you."

"Oh, it was no trouble. I'm really glad you liked them." Her eyes were still slightly red but she looked to be in a better mood.

"I did, and I wanted to give you this. It's from my mom and me," she told her, handing her a rectangular box covered in silver wrapping paper.

"Oh, goodness, dear. You didn't have to go and do that," she said, her face brightening.

"It's nothing really. Just sort of a thanks, for you know, keeping us fed."

"Thank you," Mrs. Weasley smiled, wrapping the girl in a hug.

"Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas."

Pulling apart, Buffy went to her usual seat beside Remus. Most of the table surprised, especially Ron, at Buffy's action.

"What 'd you get her?" asked George.

"Oh, they're beautiful!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. Holding up a pair of silver and jeweled topped knitting needles. That looked quite expensive.

"Yes, they are," Sirius agreed, happy that Molly was in better spirits, and then he quickly turned to Buffy. "Now where's mine?"

"Actually, I do have something for you," she said, handing him the other box she had in her hands.

"What about me?" Remus asked.

"Your present is upstairs. I just wanted to give Sirius his present in front of everyone. It's just more special that way," she smiled.

Suspiciously taking the box, he eyed it warily but Buffy was giving nothing away. They all watched as Sirius carefully pulled away the wrapping paper. And when he opened it a wide grin split his face. Right before he started to chuckle, and then he started to laugh, and soon he was fighting for air.

"I'm . . . I'm not . . . I'm not wearing this," he spoke between breaths.

"What is it?" Fred asked.

Still in heaps of laughter, Sirius lifted his gift from the box. And hanging from his index finger was a bright pink dog collar. Soon, the whole room started laughing, even Ron couldn't hold himself back.

"That's, a nice color on you," Remus said.

"It really brings out your eyes," said Fred.

"Very _fetching_," George commented.

And Sirius, in jokester fashion, clasped the bright pink collar on his neck. Causing another round of laughter from the group.

"All we need is a leash, and you'll be set to go," Buffy told him.

They laughed and laughed, and it felt like Christmas. There was no glaring, or rudeness, it was fun. And for that one moment, everyone let themselves forget.

As the laughs were beginning to die down, and everyone was regaining their breath, the sudden sound of fluttering wings was heard, and soon a black owl landed on the table right in front of Buffy. A letter attached to its leg.

"What she doing here?" Remus asked, wiping at his eyes.

"I sent a letter to the gang a while back," she said as she cleared her throat, untying the letter from Deity's leg and unfolding it. "And I'm hoping this is a gift certificate from Neiman's or I'm . . . "

The words died away. And shock enveloped her.

"Honey?" Joyce asked in concern.

Buffy's eyes were wide and a pained and fearful look fell upon her face.

"What is it?" Sirius asked.

But she didn't say anything. Couldn't say anything. The world was spinning around her. The words had become blurry. She grasped for air, she couldn't breathe.

Reaching across the table, Joyce took the letter from her daughter. Buffy's hands falling lifelessly to her sides as she stared into the space where the letter used to be.

They all watched as Ms. Summers read the note, and her alarmed eyes turned to Buffy. Then Sirius took his turn, and soon after, gained the same reaction. And then Remus grabbed the letter from Sirius's shocked hands. His eyes widening and his face falling in concern as he read the words.

_Buffy,_

_Angel has returned. Come as soon as you can._

_Giles._

"I have to go," Buffy mumbled.

She rose from her seat dazedly. Fumbling as she walked around the table. Her mother, Sirius and Remus following her.

"Buffy, you don't have to go," Sirius told her.

"Yes, I do."

"What if it's Angelus?" Remus asked.

"I don't care. Angel is my responsibility."

They disappeared up the stairs, and everyone left in the room was wondering what the hell was going on. Except for one. Who had so many other questions in mind.

'"_Drusilla, sired in 1860. She was known as a seer even before she became a vampire. It says here she was tortured into insanity by . . . Angelus. A master vampire who eventually turned her. He murdered her family and friends, and devised all forms of mental torment on her," Ginny abridged. "Sounds horrible. And you say you're related to her?"_

"_Yes, but we don't talk about it much. Dad says it was a very dark time in my mum's family, and those who survived never liked to talk about it again," Luna answered offhandedly._

"_This Angelus sounds like a real prince. I would hate to cross him in a dark alley," Ginny shuddered._

"_He's a regular Sweeney Todd," Buffy mumbled._

_Looking up, Ginny, found the strangest expression on Buffy's face. Pain, heartache, guilt, anger, and a spark of something else in her eyes._

"_Who's that?"_

"_It's a muggle reference," she replied.'_

Angelus . . . Angelus . . . Angelus! Ginny's eyes grew wider in surprise. Her jaw dropping slightly as it all came back to her. Buffy had known Angelus. A murderous, evil vampire who almost wiped out all of Luna's family. But how? When? And even as questions filled her, Ginny couldn't get the look on Buffy's face out of her mind. The fear and shock that seemed to consume her. And everything Ron had told her, disappeared. For that moment all she could think about, all she could feel, was concern for her friend.

They were racing up the stairs. Objections flying from their mouths, as Buffy tried her best to ignore them. And when they past Mrs. Black's portrait, the noise had caused the woman to wake up. Letting out some screams of her own.

"FILTH! SCUM! BY-PRODUCTS OF DIRT AND VILENESS! HALF-BREEDS, MUTANTS, FREAKS, BEGONE FROM THIS PLACE!"

Spinning around, Buffy marched right up to Mrs. Black's portrait. She didn't have time for this.

"Mrs. Black! Shut up!" she ordered, and Mrs. Black did just that.

"She's got to teach us how to do that," Remus said.

They were now up in her room, still mouthing their objections, as she reached into her closet to pull out a coat. It maybe daylight here but Sunnydale was a whole eight hours behind.

"Look," she firmly stopped them. "I know you guys are worried, but I'll be fine."

"But if they already have Faith, than why--"

"Because Faith doesn't know Angel like I do. And if he's back." She paused to swallow the small lump in her throat. "If he's back, and they need me, I'm not going to just stay here."

Arms crossed, faces full of concern, Remus, Sirius and Joyce looked at her. They definitely did not like this. Physically, they knew Buffy could handle herself. But emotionally. That's what really worried them.

"Buffy," her mother tried to plead again.

"Mom, I need to go. I'm going to be fine, I just . . . I need to go."

Taking a deep breath, Joyce nodded in understanding. And submission, it's not like Buffy was going to change her mind anyway.

"All right," she nodded. "Where do you want me to drop you off?"

"Actually," Buffy said nervously. "That won't be necessary."

"Your not planning to Portkey are you?"

"Fudge is monitoring all Portkeys," Remus reminded her.

"No, actually I--"

"Are you planning on flooing?" Sirius asked. "Because Fudge's been keeping an eye on that, too."

"No," she shook her head. "Definitely not any of the above."

"Than how–?" Joyce began to ask.

"Don't be mad, okay," Buffy said, backing up a step. "I'll explain everything when I come back. I promise."

"Explain--"

And then, right in front of their eyes, Buffy Apparated right out of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.

"Did she just . . . " Sirius said.

"How did she . . . " Remus wondered.

"She is one dead girl," Joyce angrily stated.

* * *

Note: Thanks for all the reviews!


	37. Chapter 37

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

It was quiet. Only the occasional sound of a page turning, or the chirping of distant crickets being heard. The only light coming from lamps, warding off the darkness that crept in through the windows. There was a calm feeling. Undisturbed silence that felt strange in the holiday season.

Turning the page, again, Xander rubbed his eyes. Too many words. Too many words! Settling on the next line of gibberish he couldn't understand, he was startled when a loud popping sound was heard. And when he heard Buffy's sudden voice, he did the most natural thing in the world, he fell backwards in his chair and hit the floor.

"What the bloody hell is going?!"

"Buffy," Willow said, rising from her seat in shock. "How did you--"

"Buffy," Giles greeted calmly, coming out of his office and not at all surprised.

"How long has he been back?" she demanded.

"Hey, Buffster," Xander smiled after scrambling to his feet. "Long time no see."

"How long?" she demanded again.

The three of them looked at each other. She was not going to take this well.

"Two months," Giles answered.

The air left her in one loud breath. Her thoughts spinning out of control.

"Two months," she whispered to herself, and when her mind wrapped around how long that actually she was, and more importantly that they didn't tell her, her anger rose to a whole other level. "Two months! TWO MONTHS!"

Behind her, a jar inexplicably shattered, and Willow, Xander and Giles jumped in surprise.

"Whoa!" Xander exclaimed. "How did--"

"Why didn't anybody tell me?!"

"W-well, w-we wanted to, a-at first," Willow nervously explained. "But see, when Angel came back he was . . . sick, sorta, a-and we decided to wait until he got better. And when he did, Angel kind of . . . sort of . . . told us not to."

"Sick?" What did that mean?

"What Willow is trying to say," Giles stepped in, "is that upon his return Angel was not himself. He was a bit . . . out of it, you could say."

"But he's better now right?"

"In a manner of speaking," Giles replied.

They were shifty, and suspicious. That did not bode well for her patience.

"Giles, what is going on?" she asked.

He glanced at the others, and noticed Xander and Willow shift uneasily. They were as uncomfortable at telling Buffy as he was. But he was the adult, he needed to take lead.

"When Angel returned, when we found him, he was . . . feral, wild, like a vicious animal," he said gently. "In time he was able to heal, both physically- m-mentally, and he was doing well. But lately, it seems that he is being plagued from past incidents, past victims he had slain as Angelus. And we fear that might allow him to slip back. It seems that, um, that apparitions of the dead have been following him. Taunting him of what he had done and--"

"We think he's being Christmas Caroled," Xander simply stated, which earned him a reproachful look from Giles. "What?"

So much for being uncomfortable.

"He's being haunted?" Buffy asked, trying to make sense from all the rush of shiny, new information.

"In a manner of speaking," answered Giles. "The ghosts, I guess you could say, are driving him out of his mind. And according to him, he feels like he's . . . slipping. Toward, Angelus."

He's . . . No, he can't, he–No!

"How do I stop it?"

"You can't. Not until we know what's causing it."

"Then do the research and point the way."

"Buffy . . . "

"No, Giles," she interrupted. "You-you wait two months to tell me that he's alive, something I should've known the moment you did. And then you send me a letter that tells me to get here as soon as I can, without an explanation. And now you tell me that he might become Angelus again, and expect me to just sit by and watch it happen?" Her voice wavered with the rawness of her frustration, pain, and anger, and with the sudden realization of Giles's true intentions of his reasons for asking her to come here. "I killed him once, Giles. Shoved a sword through him, and . . . I know what you want me to do, why you asked me here, but I don't know if I have the strength to do it again. I...I need you to tell me how to stop it."

She was right, and it was unfair, he knew that. He asked her to come here to confront a potential danger they refused to themselves. Even Faith couldn't stand against Angelus. She didn't know him like Buffy did. She was the only one with the knowledge of how to kill him, if it came down to it. And now hearing that Buffy knew the reason of why Giles had asked her to come to Sunnydale, he felt an enormous guilt settle within him.

"There are . . . theories, of how he may have returned," Giles began, hoping to make up for the fault. "We were hoping that might give us some answers."

"Okay, what are they?" she asked, switching over to slayer mode.

"Well, there are the basic revival methods: magic, vortexes, breaks in time, but I have been working on others, some from your world even," he said. "There's, um, there's something called the Veil of Death. It's a gateway between this life and the next, the afterlife I guess you could say. There have been records of people hearing the dead when close to it. And although there have been instances of people going through the Veil, there's been no record of them coming back."

"So, it's a one way deal," she deduced.

"I'm not sure," he said. "Like I said, there hasn't been case where a person coming back has been known to happen. However, I have been working on another theory." He walked over to the table and picked up a book from the litter, before coming to stand beside her again. "It involves something called the First. A being of absolute, undiluted evil. It predates demons, the beginning of time. From what I have learned, it does have the power to bring someone back. But it can't be called on it's own, i-it's an incorporeal being. The First has, has high priests, they are the only ones who can call it forward."

He flipped through the pages and passed the book over to her. Her eyes widening in recognition at the picture.

"I've seen these guys," she said. "I saw them in my dream the other night."

A dream where Angel had made his presence again. She awoke within the dream to find him in her room. Then to feel his lips as he kissed her slowly, softly. He felt so perfect and beautiful, and when he pulled away he wasn't Angel anymore. His demon had shown its face and she knew what he wanted. To kill her. And just as he sunk his fangs into her neck she saw the man with the scarred eyes standing in the background.

"They're known as Bringers, o-or Harbingers."

"So, we're thinking they could be the guys casting the mojo on, Angel."

"It's a possibility."

Taking the book from her hands, Giles looked over the passages.

"Let's see," he muttered, then began to read. "' . . . for they are the Harbingers of death. Nothing shall grow above or below them. No need shall flower, neither in man nor . . . ' and it goes on and on about how they're rebels and they'll never be any good. Nothing specific about their haunts."

'_Nothing shall grow above or below them_'. Why did that . . .

"Oh, oh, I'm remembering something," Xander said, gaining the rooms attention. "The whole, nothing'll grow above them thing is ringing a bell. In the, uh, the Christmas Tree lot, the guy who works there said something about a group of trees just up and dying for no reason."

"You think that's where they might be hiding?" Buffy asked turning to Giles.

"Could be worth looking into."

"Then I'll check out the lot," Buffy stated, swiftly walking toward the doors. "Come find me as soon as anything changes."

And with the swing of a door, and without another word, she was gone.

There were so many questions to ask. So many things there were left a mystery. For example: How did Buffy get here so fast? What was the deal with the whole teleportation or whatever thing she did, was? And what was up with the exploding jar? But only one important question came to Xander Harris's mind.

"Exactly how long has Buffy been British?"

* * *

" . . . she never told me."

"How long had she been able to do that?"

"You don't think it has anything to do with--"

The whispered conversation stopped immediately when they re-entered the kitchen, and noticed the group of expectant faces.

"Is everything all right?" Ginny asked worriedly.

"Everything's fine," Joyce replied smoothly, calmly resuming her seat.

"What happened?" asked George.

"With what?" Sirius replied, trying to brush it off.

"With, Buffy," he said, knowing what he was trying to do.

"Oh, that," he nonchalantly said, as he sat down. "It's nothing serious, just some news from one of her friends."

"Bad news?" Fred asked.

"Surprising news," Remus said, mimicking Sirius.

"It seemed like it was more than that," Hermione interjected.

"It was nothing."

"Are you sure? She seemed really upset," said Fred.

"She's fine," Sirius stated.

"You're not going to tell us are you?" Harry asked.

"There's nothing to tell," Joyce responded.

Yeah, ok, because Buffy's near hysterical reaction to the letter she had received, and the definite brush off from the three people who knew exactly what was going on, definitely screamed nothing.

"Will you at least tell us where she went?" Ginny asked, hoping that would help to ease her worry.

"To visit some friends," Sirius said. "She'll be back soon."

Nope, that didn't help. Why were they being so secretive? Since they had arrived in this house everyone, with the exception of Fred and George, seemed to be filled with the unexpected. Buffy knowing Sirius, Remus, Tonks, and more surprisingly, in the case of Ginny and Ron, their own mother, so well. For some it was a pleasant surprise, for others a total shock. And the more they learned the more they questioned. Their whole Buffy standard had been shaken up. And they got the sneaky suspicion that more surprises would be coming their way.

Lunch continued on, and no more questions about Buffy arose. The adults kept behaving like absolutely nothing was going on, and the teenagers kept the ears perked just in case. The last spoon settled on the table, and the last stomach was full. Leaning against his chair, Sirius looked over the mess that littered the table, which lead to thoughts of cleaning, which lead to thoughts of Kreacher, which lead to a very important question.

"Has anybody seen Kreacher lately?"

"I haven't seen him since the night we came back here," said Harry. "You were ordering him out of the kitchen."

"Yeah…" said Sirius, frowning. "You know, I think that's the last time I saw him, too… he must be hiding upstairs somewhere."

"He couldn't have left, could he?" Harry said urgently. "I mean, when you said 'out', maybe he thought you meant get out of the house?"

"No, no, house-elves can't leave unless they're given clothes. They're tied to their family's house," said Sirius as he shook his head.

"They can leave the house if they really want to," Harry contradicted him. "Dobby did, he left the Malfoys' to give me warnings two years ago. He had to punish himself afterwards, but he still managed it."

Sirius looked slightly disconcerted for a moment, then said, "I'll look for him later, I expect I'll find him upstairs crying his eyes out over my mother's old bloomers or something. Of course, he might have crawled into the airing cupboard and died, but I mustn't get my hopes up."

Fred, George and Ron laughed; Hermione, however, looked reproachful.

A few minutes later, Mad-Eye, Mundungus and Bill arrived. The Weasleys, plus Harry and Hermione, were planning on visiting Mr. Weasley at St. Mungo's. Of course they couldn't go unescorted, especially with Harry in the mix, hence Mad-Eye's presence and Remus's addition. And since Sirius couldn't leave the house, Ms. Summers volunteered to stay behind to keep him 'company'. They all soon piled into a car Mundungus had 'borrowed' for the occasion, much to Mrs. Weasley's disapproval, and headed off.

Boughs of holly and the tra-la-la-la-la of it, were all over St. Mungo's Hospital. Gold and red baubles, white Christmas trees and the like were everywhere. It was pleasantly festive for a place where sick people came to stay.

They found Mr. Weasley propped up in his bed with the remains of his turkey dinner on a tray on his lap and a rather sheepish expression on his face.

"Everything all right, Arthur?" asked Mrs. Weasley, after they had all greeted Mr. Weasley and handed over their presents.

"Fine, fine," said Mr. Weasley, a little too heartily. "You--er-- haven't seen Healer Smethwyck, have you?"

"No," said Mrs. Weasley suspiciously, "why?"

"Nothing, nothing," he said airily, starting to unwrap his pile of gifts. "Well, everyone had a good day? What did you all get for Christmas?"

His face lit up at the very first present he opened. A gift from Buffy and Ms. Summers.

"What is it, dad?" Ginny asked.

"How wonderful. It's a book called: How Things Work," he beamed. "It explains everything, absolutely everything that Muggles use. Toasters, microwaves, oh look even yo-yo's."

Mrs. Weasley did not seem entirely satisfied with Mr. Weasley's answer. And when her husband leaned over to hand the book to Bill, she peered at the bandaging under his nightshirt.

"Arthur," she said, with a snap in her voice like a mousetrap, "you've had your bandages changed. Why have you had your bandages changed a day early, Arthur? They told me they wouldn't need doing until tomorrow."

"What?" said Mr. Weasley, looking rather frightened and pulling the bed covers higher up his chest. "No, no--it's nothing--it's–I--"

He seemed to deflate under Mrs. Weasley's piercing gaze.

"Well-- now don't get upset, Molly, but Augustus Pye had an idea . . . he's the Trainee Healer, you know, lovely young chap and very interested in . . . um . . . complementary medicine . . . I mean, some of these old Muggle remedies . . . well, they're called stitches, Molly, and they work very well on--on Muggle wounds--"

Mrs. Weasley let out an ominous noise somewhere between a shriek and a snarl. Remus strolled away from the bed and over to the werewolf who resided next to Mr. Weasley, who had no visitors and was looking rather wistfully at the crowd around Mr. Weasley. Bill muttered something about getting himself a cup of tea and Fred and George leapt up to accompany him, both of them grinning.

"Do you mean to tell me," said Mrs. Weasley, her voice growing louder with every word and apparently unaware that her fellow visitors were scurrying for cover, "that you have been messing about with Muggle remedies?"

"Not messing about, Molly, dear," said Mr. Weasley imploringly, "it was just--just something Pye and I thought we'd try--only, most unfortunately--well, with these particular kinds of wounds--it doesn't seem to work as well as we'd hoped--"

"Meaning?"

"Well . . . well, I don't know whether you know what--what stitches are?"

"It sounds as though you've been trying to sew your skin back together," said Mrs. Weasley with a snort of mirthless laughter, "but even you, Arthur, wouldn't be that stupid--"

"I fancy a cup of tea, too," said Harry, jumping to his feet.

Hermione, Ron and Ginny almost sprinted to the door with him. As it swung closed behind them, they heard Mrs. Weasley shriek, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THAT'S THE GENERAL IDEA?"

"Typical Dad," said Ginny, shaking her head as they set off up the corridor. "Stitches . . . I ask you."

"Well, you know, they do work well on non-magical wounds," said Hermione fairly. "I suppose something in that snake's venom dissolves them or something. I wonder where the tearoom is?"

"Fifth floor," said Harry, remembering the sign over the welcome witch's desk.

They walked along the corridor, through a set of double doors and found a rickety staircase lined with more portraits of brutal-looking Healers.

"What floor's this?"

"I think it's the fifth," said Hermione.

"Nah, it's the fourth," said Harry, "one more to go."

But as he stepped on to the landing he came to an abrupt halt, staring at the small window set into the double doors that marked the start of a corridor signposted SPELL DAMAGE. A man was peering out at them all with his nose pressed against the glass. He had wavy blond hair, bright blue eyes and a broad vacant smile that revealed dazzlingly white teeth. It was Professor Lockhart. And when their old professor noticed them as well, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were roped into a conversation. Soon a lovely Healer with tinsel in her hair came by, and mistakenly took the quartet as visitors for Lockheart and escorted them all to the Janus Thickey Ward for a proper visit, which as it turned out, was known as the long-term resident's ward.

"Here you are, Agnes," said a Healer brightly to a furry-faced woman, as she handed her a small pile of Christmas presents. "See, not forgotten, are you? And your son's sent an owl to say he's visiting tonight, so that's nice, isn't it?"

And Agnes gave several loud barks in response.

"And look, Broderick, you've been sent a potted plant and a lovely calendar with a different fancy Hippogriff for each month; they'll brighten things up, won't they?" said the Healer, bustling along to the mumbling man, setting a rather ugly plant with long, swaying tentacles on the bedside cabinet and fixing the calendar to the wall with her wand. "And--oh, Mrs. Longbottom, are you leaving already?"

Harry's head span round. The curtains had been drawn back from the two beds at the end of the ward and two visitors were walking back down the aisle between the beds: a formidable-looking old witch wearing a long green dress, a moth-eaten fox fur and a pointed hat decorated with what was unmistakably a stuffed vulture and, trailing behind her looking thoroughly depressed was Neville.

With a sudden rush of understanding, Harry realized who the people in the end beds must be. He cast around wildly for some means of distracting the others so that Neville could leave the ward unnoticed and unquestioned, but Ron had also looked up at the sound of the name Longbottom, and before Harry could stop him, he called out.

"Neville!"

Neville jumped and cowered as though a bullet had narrowly missed him.

"It's us, Neville!" said Ron brightly. "Have you seen--? Lockhart's here! Who've you been visiting?"

"Friends of yours, Neville, dear?" said Neville's grandmother graciously, bearing down upon them all.

Neville looked as though he would rather be anywhere in the world but here. A dull purple flush was creeping up his plump face and he was not making eye contact with any of them.

"Ah, yes," said his grandmother, looking closely at Harry and sticking out a shriveled, clawlike hand for him to shake. "Yes, yes, I know who you are, of course. Neville speaks most highly of you."

"Er--thanks," said Harry, shaking hands. Neville did not look at him, but surveyed his own feet,

the color deepening in his face all the while.

"And you two are clearly Weasleys," Mrs. Longbottom continued, proffering her hand regally to Ron and Ginny in turn. "Yes, I know your parents--not well, of course--but fine people, fine people . . . and you must be Hermione Granger?"

Hermione looked rather startled that Mrs. Longbottom knew her name, but shook hands all the same.

"Yes, Neville's told me all about you. Helped him out of a few sticky spots, haven't you? He's a good boy," she said, casting a sternly appraising look down her rather bony nose at Neville, "but he hasn't got his father's talent, I'm afraid to say." Then she jerked her head in the direction of the two beds at the end of the ward, so that the stuffed vulture on her hat trembled alarmingly.

"What?" said Ron, looking amazed. "Is that your dad down the end, Neville?"

"What's this?" said Mrs. Longbottom sharply. "Haven't you told your friends about your parents, Neville?"

Neville took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. Harry could not remember ever feeling sorrier for anyone, but he could not think of any way of helping Neville out of the situation.

"Well, it's nothing to be ashamed of!" said Mrs. Longbottom angrily. "You should be proud, Neville, proud! They didn't give their health and their sanity so their only son would be ashamed of them, you know!"

"I'm not ashamed," said Neville, very faintly, still looking anywhere but at Harry and the others. Ron was now standing on tiptoe to look over at the inhabitants of the two beds.

"Well, you've got a funny way of showing it!" said Mrs. Longbottom. "My son and his wife," she said, turning haughtily to Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, "were tortured into insanity by You- Know-Who's followers."

Hermione and Ginny both clapped their hands over their mouths. Ron stopped craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Neville's parents and looked mortified.

"They were Aurors, you know, and very well respected within the wizarding community" Mrs.

Longbottom went on. "Highly gifted, the pair of them. I--yes, Alice dear, what is it?"

Neville's mother had come edging down the ward in her nightdress. She no longer had the plump, happy-looking face Harry had seen in Moody's old photograph of the original Order of the Phoenix he had shown him. Her face was thin and worn now, her eyes seemed overlarge and her hair, which had turned white, was wispy and dead-looking. She did not seem to want to speak, or perhaps she was not able to, but she made timid motions towards Neville, holding something in her outstretched hand.

"Again?" said Mrs. Longbottom, sounding slightly weary. "Very well, Alice dear, very well--Neville, take it, whatever it is."

But Neville had already stretched out his hand, into which his mother dropped an empty Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper.

"Very nice, dear," said Neville's grandmother in a falsely cheery voice, patting his mother on the shoulder.

But Neville said quietly, "Thanks, Mum."

His mother tottered away, back up the ward, humming to herself. Neville looked around at the others, his expression defiant, as though daring them to laugh, but Harry did not think he'd ever found anything less funny in his life.

"Well, we'd better get back," sighed Mrs Longbottom, drawing on long green gloves. "Very nice to have met you all. Neville, put that wrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough of them to paper your bedroom by now."

But as they left, Harry was sure he saw Neville slip the candy wrapper into his pocket. The door closed behind them.

"I never knew," said Hermione, who looked tearful.

"Nor did I," said Ron rather hoarsely.

"Nor me," whispered Ginny.

And then they all looked at Harry.

"I did," he said glumly. "Dumbledore told me but I promised I wouldn't tell anyone . . . that's what Bellatrix Lestrange got sent to Azkaban for, using the Cruciatus Curse on Neville's parents until they lost their minds."

"Bellatrix Lestrange did that?" whispered Hermione, horrified. "That woman Kreacher's got a photo of in his den?"

"Yeah," Harry confirmed, and as they left the ward, Harry suddenly wondered if Buffy knew about Neville's parents. Because, as recent experience began to teach him, Buffy knew a whole lot more than she lead on.

* * *

Xander was right. A circle of dead Christmas trees in the middle of perfectly healthy green ones. Who would've guessed? Wasting no time, Buffy took hold of her wand and blasted the ground until a makeshift hole was big enough for her to slip through.

Landing cleanly on her feet, she found candles against the stone walls. Definitely no vacancies here. Walking deeper into the cave the sounds of chanting reached her ears, and grew louder and louder with each step. Then she found robed figures sitting around a candle-lit table.

"Alright, ten more minutes of chanting and then you guys have to go to bed."

The priests jumped up in immediate attack, rushing toward her. Of course they didn't count on the fact that she was a witch with a nifty wand and so much pent up tension from lack of muscle use that they ended up dead faster than anticipated. So much for that.

"Hmm. I'm impressed," 'Jenny' said.

She had popped out of nowhere, and Buffy shifted in surprise. How did . . . she didn't, that's how. This wasn't Jenny. She could feel it. It was powerful and evil, and so strong it almost frightened her . . . almost.

"You won't get, Angel," Buffy stated defiantly.

"Hmm. You think you can fight me?" 'Jenny' scoffed. "I'm not a demon, little girl. I am something that you can't even conceive. The First Evil. Beyond sin, beyond death. I am the thing the darkness fears. You'll never see me, but I am everywhere. Every being, every thought, every drop of hate."

"Alright, I get it, you're evil," she interrupted impatiently. "Do we have to chat about it all day."

"Angel will be dead by sunrise," 'Jenny' smirked. "Your Christmas . . . will be his wake"

"No," Buffy firmly stated.

"You have no idea what you're dealing with"

"Lemme guess. Is it . . . evil?" she sarcastically retorted.

With a smile on her face, the apparition of Jenny turned itself into a ghostly image of a large beast with horns and claws. It's eyes glowing red as it jumped toward her, heeding her one last warning

"DEAD BY SUNRISE!" It growled, and then it was gone.

Rushing out of the cave, Buffy ran towards the one place Angel might be, terrified she would be too late. Her worry encompassing her completely it never occurred for her to Apparate there, which only wasted more time.

Reaching the mansion, she frantically looked everywhere, but he was nowhere to be found.

"Angel!" she called out, but there was no answer.

Walking towards the atrium, she noticed a few steps leading up and without hesitation she rushed to them. Letting them take her to wherever it is they lead.

And past the bushes, on the edge of a cliff, there he stood. As beautiful as he ever was, and her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. Her emotions running on edge on the very proof that he really was alive.

"Angel," she said, her voice raw and breathless.

If his heart could skip a beat it would have. Turning around his eyes widened in surprise, and joy and longing ran through him.

"Buffy."

He wanted to run to her, to hold her, to tell let her make it all better, but then he realized that what he wanted from her was the very reason of why he had to stay away. So he forced himself to turn back, using any strength he had left to finish what he had come up here to do.

Her admiration of him snapped out of focus when she saw him turn back to look out over the sleepy little town. Reminding her of why she was here, and what he planned to do.

"Angel--" she started to say as she walked over to him, hoping to convince him to change his mind.

"I bet half the kids down there are already awake. Lying in their beds . . . sneaking downstairs . . . waiting for day," he interrupted.

"Angel, please. I need for you to get inside," she pleaded. "Th-there's only a few minutes left."

"I know. I can smell the sunrise long before it comes."

He looked so calm, and it frightened her.

"I don't have time to explain this. You just have to trust me. That thing that was haunting you . . . "

"It wasn't haunting me. It was showing me."

"Showing you?"

"What I am."

"Were," she insisted.

"And ever shall be," he countered. "I wanted to know why I was back. Now I do."

"You _don't _know," she said firmly. "Some great evil takes credit for bringing you back and you buy it? You just give up?"

"I can't do it again, Buffy. I can't become a killer," he said harshly.

"Then fight it."

"It's too hard."

"Angel, please," she pleaded desperately. "You have to get inside."

"It told me to kill you," he snapped, hoping she would understand and leave him be. "You were in the dream. You know. It told me to lose my soul in you and become a monster again."

"I know what it told you. What does it matter?"

"Because I wanted to!" he shouted in despair. "Because I missed you, and I want you so badly! I want to take comfort in you, and I know it'll cost me my soul, and a part of me doesn't care." His voice wavered, and stray tears roll down his cheeks. "Look, I'm weak. I've never been anything else. It's not the demon in me that needs killing, Buffy. It's the man."

She didn't know what to say. She had never seen Angel fall apart, had never seen him so broken, but she couldn't give up on him now. She couldn't give up on him ever. She had just gotten him back, and she was damned if she was going to lose him again.

"You're weak. Everybody is. Everybody fails. Maybe this evil did bring you back, but if it did, it's because it needs you. And that means that you can hurt it," she said, but Angel didn't seem convinced. "Angel, you have the power to do real good, to make amends. But if you die now, then all that you ever were was a monster."

Looking up in haste, she noticed that the sky had begun to lighten, and panic set in a lot harder than before.

"Angel, please, the sun is coming up!" she begged frantically.

"Just go," he dismissed.

"I won't!"

"What, do you think this is simple? You think there's an easy answer? You can never understand what I've done! Now go!"

She wanted to say he was wrong, but right now all that mattered was getting him inside.

"You are not staying here," she told him as she grabbed his arm. "I won't let you!"

"I said LEAVE!" he shouted, jerking his arm back.

In her anger and desperation at his stubbornness, she punched him in the face, hoping it would snap him out of this suicide mission. But in his own desperation, Angel shoved her harshly away from him, causing her to fall face forward, roughly to the ground.

"Oh, my God," he whispered.

Crouching down to her, he grabbed a hold of her shoulders, forcing her to face him.

"No! No!" she cried out, afraid of his intentions.

"Am I a thing worth saving, huh? Am I a righteous man?" he demanded, shaking her. "The world wants me gone!"

"What about me?" she asked, her voice thick with tears. "I love you so much . . . And I tried to make you go away . . . I killed you and it didn't help. I left Sunnydale and it didn't work." Shoving him away roughly, she rose to her feet in anger at his blindness. "And I hate it! I hate that it's _so_ hard . . . and that you can hurt me _so_ much. I know everything that you did, because you did it to me." Her tears were clogging her throat, making her voice sound harsher. "Oh, God! I wish that I wished you dead. I don't. I can't."

He hated what he was doing to her, that he could cause her so much pain. Why couldn't she see that she was better off without him. That everybody was.

"Buffy, please," he begged, rising to his feet. "Just this once . . . let me be strong."

"Strong is fighting! It's hard, and it's painful, and it's every day. It's what we have to do. And we can do it together," she told him, but she was tired of being passive. "But if you're too much of a coward for that, then burn. If I can't convince you that you belong in this world, then I don't know what can. But do _not_ expect me to watch. And _don't_ expect me to mourn for you, because . . . "

Her words died mid-sentence, as soon as she felt the cold flake on her skin. Looking up, Buffy noticed the snow coming slowly from the sky. Falling over them, and over Sunnydale. It fell harder with every second, blanketing the town in white. She turned to Angel, and could see the same expression of amazement on his face. And when he faced her again, she could also see the realization of what it meant.

The world didn't want him gone. And that gave him something he had lost for quite some time. It gave him hope.

'_Weatherman: Sunnydale residents shouldn't expect to see the sun at all today. That cold front isn't going anywhere. With temperatures in the high 30s, means you better bundle up if you're planning to go outside and enjoy the change in the weather' _

The fire crackled as they sat beside it. Warming them up from the Christmas miracle they had just experienced moments ago. After reentering the mansion, they had settled on the floor. Angel wanting to know about Buffy's life after leaving Sunnydale, hoping that would help to ease his mind.

"So, you're a witch," he said flatly.

"Yep, I'm a witch," she nodded. "With witchy powers, and witchy friends, sorta." She looked up from fiddling with her wand when she picked up on his tone. "You don't sound surprised."

"I always knew there was something different about you, Buffy," he replied honestly. "Aside from you being slayer, there was something else I felt. Something strong and powerful."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I wasn't sure what it was."

"Oh."

Looking back down, Buffy twirled the wand in her hand again.

"Do you mind?" he asked, reaching out for the stick.

"What? Oh, no, go ahead," she said, handing it over to him.

The moment his fingers touched it, he felt it pulse. There was definitely some magic in there.

"What kind is it?" he asked, and then noticed Buffy's confused look. "The combination."

She scrunched her eyebrows together. "Ten inch yew with unicorn hair," she said, suspicious of how he knew what to ask.

"And very pointy," he added when he noticed the end. The wand resembled a very slim stake.

"Ollivander called it 'curious'," she informed him. "He said he hadn't seen a combination like that in centuries. The yew wood is suppose to represent death and rebirth, and the unicorn hair means innocence . . . apparently it was _curiouser and curiouser_," she mimicked his words. "How do you know about wands?"

"I've been around a long time, Buffy," he smiled. "I've known a few wizards in my time . . . besides . . . my sister was one."

That was some new information there.

"She was?"

"She got accepted into Hogwarts the year before I became Angelus. I was there when she got her wand. A nine and a half inch, rosewood wand with a dragon heartstring core," he answered, a pained note in his voice. "I was happy for her when I found out. My parents of course were extremely proud of her, and then become extremely disappointed with me after that. They saw her magic as a gift from God, and my father blamed my layabout ways for not receiving the same gift as well." He lifted the wand and eyed it as he spoke. "That's why I went after her first, the reason I went back after I had been turned. She had power in her blood. And when I drank her . . . "

Disgust filled his eyes as he remembered, and Buffy felt a pang sympathy.

"You can't blame yourself for what happened," she said consolingly.

"I know, but the memory still haunts me," he said in a low voice.

"I know," she replied.

There was something in her voice that made Angel wonder. It was more than comfort. It sounded deep in experience and understanding.

"That gang told me you were . . . I think sick, is the way they put it, when you came back," she said, causing a distraction in Angel she wasn't aware of.

"Is what they said?" he responded, remembering his previous state.

"Well, the words feral, wild and animalistic, were also thrown around."

"That seems about right," he smirked, and then cleared his throat as he became serious again. "I was trapped in a hell dimension for a hundred years before I returned, and my mind-set took a while to adjust."

She flinched at his words. Pain and guilt filling her.

"It wasn't your fault," he said softly, noticing the look in her eyes.

"It is my fault," she countered. "I was the one who . . . if we had never . . . "

"_We_, didn't do anything wrong," he reasoned. "We fell in love, Buffy. It wasn't planned. We couldn't have known what would've happened."

"But if I hadn't--"

"Listen to me," he said, taking a hold of her hand. "Nothing about this is your fault. We couldn't have known what Drusilla had planned. That she had wanted to take my soul, or that she was even aware of the happiness clause."

"But it _was_ me," she pushed on. "She made you dream of us, created the illusion in your mind of us . . . of you and me . . . " she trailed off blushing.

"Making love," he finished, smiling at her adorably flushed face.

"Yeah," she smiled.

"Neither of us could've known that was the key," he said. "It wasn't your fault, just like it wasn't mine."

She nodded, but was still unconvinced.

They settled into silence. Memories filling their minds. Buffy going over everything, all the what if's that still plagued her.

"How did you get better?" she asked suddenly. "After you came back."

"Your friends helped me," he said, surprising her. "When they found me, they weren't alone. There was a demon named Whistler there. He explained things to them. Told them I still had my soul and convinced them to help me. Although, I don't understand exactly why. Especially with Giles. But they did."

She nodded again. Thankful, for the first time, for Whistler. If it wasn't for him, she was pretty sure Angel would've been long gone. And she couldn't really blame her friends, they didn't know about him regaining his soul right before . . . they didn't know. Of course here where lots of things they didn't know. And there were lots of things she wondered about herself. Angel was back, and her heart hadn't changed. So that left her with one question . . .

"So, what happens now?" she asked. "Between us."

"What do you want to happen?"

He still loved her, missed her, but she had a different life now. One in which he wasn't a part of.

"I don't know," she honestly replied. "Everything's changed. What we know. What would happen if--"

"If we got too close," he finished grimly.

"Yeah."

Her love for him had never faded, not once. It was permanent in her heart, but everything was different now.

"I missed you, every day," he confessed. "And now you're here. And I can actually reach out and . . . but you don't live here anymore. You have another life. Somewhere else. And that means that . . . "

"It means that . . . " She didn't want to say it. It burned against her throat. "It's not going to work out with us is it?"

He would be lying if he said he never dreamed of them being together again. Even if she was somewhere else for the time being. It was all he could think about in his spare time. The nights he slayed with Faith, he used to wish he would look over and see Buffy standing there. He loved her more than life itself. Was willing to kill himself to keep her safe. Wanted nothing more than to touch her, to kiss her, without hesitation or worry, but that's not how it worked with them. They had limits, and it was unfair to ask her to adjust. And he felt the lump in his throat when he came to the same realizations she had. Clogging his words before pushing them out.

"No. I don't think it is."

She felt the tears welling up in her eyes, the coldness settling in her stomach. Vile creeping up her throat.

"But it'll be easier," he said, forcing his voice to remain calm. "When you go back, and I'm not around . . . it'll be easier. For you."

"What about you?"

"I'll bear," he tried to smile reassuringly. "As long as I know you're okay."

That was the flaw in the plan. When she went back she wasn't going to be okay. She was on the brink of a war with a psychotic wizard who wanted her and everyone else dead. But she wasn't about to bring Angel into that. He needed to bear right.

"When will you be heading back?" he asked.

"Today," she answered. "I'll need to tell Giles that you're okay, but after that."

"Will you be coming back soon?" he inquired, hope in his voice.

"Yeah, I'll try to stop by before heading back to Hogwarts. I'm sure Willow and Xander have some questions," she said. "They don't know about the whole witch thing, but popping into the library today might've given some stuff away."

"And then there's the accent," he pointed out.

"Right, and that," she smiled, unaware she had been using it all this time.

"Why did you stop using it when you came here?"

"To blend, mostly," she replied. "When we came to California my mom enrolled me in Hemery right away. She hired someone to tutor me over the summer so I could get caught up on Muggle studies and we could blend in easier. You know History, Math, English, Science, a pretty packed schedule," she added. "But anyway, the tutor would meet me everyday at school, and that's when I noticed all the lack of British people, and I didn't want to be seen as an outsider, so I adopted an American accent. Wasn't so hard. Even brain washed myself with pop culture. And by the time fall came around I was no longer a Farmer Ted, I was a Heather."

"A what?"

"I became popular," she replied. "Like I was at Hogwarts before I left. It came natural to me. Leading the pack made switching worlds easier. I knew my place, knew what to say, how to behave. It helped . . . and then I become the slayer. And everything went topsy turvy again."

"At least it's easier at Hogwarts, isn't it? Being a slayer. They know all about the demonic world," he said.

"Yeah," she lied. "It's easier."

She didn't know how long she had stayed with Angel. Going over the missing pieces in their history since they've been apart, and promising to return at least once before leaving, but by the time she walked outside it was lighter. Not sunny bright, but enough to let you know it was daylight. Slushing through the snow, Buffy took her time to Giles's home. Her conversation with Angel repeating itself like a movie that wouldn't end.

Knocking on the door, she waited in the cold for it to be answered.

"Buffy," Giles greeted in relief.

"Everything's okay," she replied flatly.

"He's cured?"

"He's better. It may take a little time for him to get past this, but he won't be turning over to the dark side anytime soon."

Her eyes were sad, and her voice was without emotion.

"Is everything alright?"

"I'm going home," she said, avoiding his question. "I'll try to stop by soon, so tell Willow and Xander that I'll be back okay?"

"Of course," he nodded.

"Thanks."

She turned around and was ready to head out, when Giles's voice reached her ears.

"Happy Christmas, Buffy."

She looked back and gave him a watery smile. "Happy Christmas, Giles."

Then a pop later she was gone.

He closed the door worriedly after that. Wondering what had occurred.

"Who was that?"

"Buffy."

"Everything okay with the Big Guy."

"Yeah, everything's fine."

Giles headed back into the kitchen to finish his tea, as Faith shrugged off her curious feeling and went back to watching her Christmas cartoons.

She wandered around for a while when she arrived back in London. Her thoughts replaying as she walked aimlessly through the streets. She just needed a bit of quiet time. And there were too many people in Sirius's home for that to happen.

She could feel water traveling up to her eyes, and her throat ached with the suppression of them. Sniffling every few seconds she finally made her way back to Grimmauld Place. It was quiet. It must be later than she thought. Closing the door gently behind her, she made her way down to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass and filling it with water, she took a seat at the table.

Her hands were shaking, her lips quivering. He was alive, and he almost died. They couldn't be together no matter how much they loved each other. It was over. The First. The pressure on her chest to save him. The rush of information. The pressure and worry if she would be there in time. Every piece of today rushed into her like freight train, and she couldn't hold the wall up anymore.

A tear rolled down her cheek, and then another, and another. Her shoulders began to shake and the dam burst. Propping her elbows onto the table and burying her head in her hands, she cried harder than she could remember. For everything she had been holding back.

Sudden arms wrapped around her, a smell she recognized filled her nose and she sank tiredly into him. Hugged him tightly as she sobbed onto his worn out sweater. Taking in every comfort he offered, hoping the pain would stop soon.

His stomach was rumbling, and Ron wondered if it would ever stop rumbling. Creeping down to the kitchen he stopped when he heard the sounds of . . . crying? Slowly prying the door open he peeked through the slot and watched in surprise as Buffy sobbed into Remus's shoulder. But it was more than just sobbing. She looked . . . broken . . . vulnerable. And a tiny small part of him flickered at the sight of it. It was strange and unfamiliar, and for some reason, he felt . . . sympathy.

"I'm okay," she sniffled, pulling back.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's just . . . " she sniffled again. "It's been a really hectic day."

He nodded and smoothed her hair comfortingly. "How did things go in Sunnydale?"

"Okay, Angel's . . . still alive," she said. "He's good."

"And you?" he asked.

"Still alive."

She seemed sad. Like she had just lost something that meant a great deal to her.

"Buffy, is there--"

"I'm fine, Remus. Really," she assured him. "Just _really_ tired."

He patted her back without another word, and they rose from their chairs slowly. Ron watched as they head towards him, and in a rush of panic, he rushed up the stairs and back to his room before they realized he was there.

"Everyone alright, Ron?" Harry asked, when he noticed the pensive look on his face, and the lack of food in his hands.

"What?" he asked automatically when he realized someone had said his name.

"Everything alright?"

"I don't . . . " He wasn't exactly sure why he couldn't. Something prevented him from it. It almost felt like he was betraying her. Which was not a feeling he was used to. This was different, he didn't over hear her say she was plotting against them. This time, what he heard was something private and personal. Which he guessed involved the letter she had received earlier that day. And all these new emotions of sympathy for Buffy caused a whole lot of confusion. And he didn't know what to think anymore. "Everything's fine."

* * *

Note: Okay, so here's the jimmy, I had absolutely no idea of how to go about this chapter. I've rewritten it about a hundred times, and I'm not sure of how good it actually turned out, if at all. So, sorry for the very laaaaaaaate chapter, but I was going nuts over here. Plus I made it extra long in apology. But, anyway, I hope, and pray, it didn't completely and utterly suck. Thanks for reading, and the reviews! :)


	38. Chapter 38

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

It was unavoidable. The lecturing, the yelling, the finger wagging, and there would've been a grounding too, if there were any extracurricular activities to actually be grounded from.

"You should've told me," her mother said, after her tirade and with winding down calm.

"I know, but I just . . . " Buffy took a deep breath, and tried to stay focused on the scorning at hand. Her head hurt, and she felt tired. Sleep hadn't come to her the night before. Her restless mind kept weaving ideas and memories into her nonstop thoughts, but she knew avoiding her mother the next morning would not the brightest thing to do, so she truckered on and hoped she could go back to bed soon. Wether that meant sleep was still a toss up. "It's not like I've been using it all this time, yesterday was the first time since . . . since then."

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you could've gotten into if the Ministry had found out about this? Apparating underage, and without a license."

"I know."

"You could've gotten kicked out of school."

"I know."

"You could've gotten hurt."

"I know."

"You could've--"

"Mom," she stopped her impatiently, though her voice sounded more tired than impatient. "Look, I know that what I did was wrong, and illegal, and dangerous, but I . . . I needed to go. And I wasn't sure how long I was going to be, so it was just better if I went by myself. And I know you're angry at me for going but--"

"You think I'm angry because of that?"

Buffy paused, her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "Aren't you?"

"Buffy." Joyce shook her head as the last of her anger faded away, and lowered herself onto the bed next to her daughter. "I know why you had to go, your friends were in danger, you needed to be there, and I'm not mad. Exactly."

"The yelling sure could've fooled me."

"I'm worried," she admitted abruptly. "If the Ministry were to find out about this, then they would want to know how long you've been able to Apparate, and that means . . . "

Buffy felt a sudden chill run up her spine. "And that means that they'll find out about everything else."

Joyce nodded grimly in agreement. "There's a reason why only a few of us know about what happened, and now, knowing that Voldemort has returned, more than anything, it needs to stay that way."

She didn't like this. Secrets, secrets, and nothing but secrets. She was like a piggy bank. Please deposit one secret and watch Buffy explode. Fun! Nevertheless, she got it. If the Ministry where to find out . . . well, let's just say, her bright and shiny days would be over.

Voldemort just had to come back didn't he? He couldn't stay in the little hell he had created for himself. Oh, no cause that would actually be a good thing for Buffy, and we can't have that can we. But what did she really expect. He had even told her he would return, and now here he was. Who knows what other promises he planned to keep. The dreadful things she remembered him whispering.

"I don't need to tell you that things are tough right now, you know they are," her mother continued. "We've already got so much to deal with, and if Fudge were to find out about this . . . he may be in denial about Voldemort's return, but he still fears it. I don't want you getting hurt."

"I won't," she said firmly.

"You can't be too confident about this, Buffy. The Ministry goes to great lengths to prevent exposure."

"I know that, mom." Buffy knew she needed to ease her mother's worry, and it's not like it was that big of secret (there's that word again) and it's not like Giles said she couldn't say anything. It was vital here, sorta. And who was her mother going to tell? The people who already knew practically everything about her? So, see, no harm here. It would be completely justified. "Okay, remember when I went to visit Giles, back before school started?"

"Yes."

"Well, remember when I told you about him knowing I was a witch?"

"Stupid Watcher's Council," Joyce mumbled, causing Buffy to smile.

"Well, after that, we starting talking about it a little, and he told me something he wasn't supposed to know, which is of the benefit here," Buffy began to explain. "Turns out that Wizarding magic can't be detected in Sunnydale by the Ministry. Well, specifically detected anyway. He said that with all the different kinds of magic, supernatural whatnot, and Hellmouthiness going on, it makes it hard to separate one spark from another. They all kinda blend into this one big vibe of tingles. So, it makes it impossible to pinpoint one single delinquent magic user from the apparent many."

That would make sense. Why hadn't it occurred to her before? With so much supernatural energy surging through that town, it should've been obvious. Trying to detect specific wizarding magic would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. And if she had known that, that was the case, they wouldn't have had to force themselves to do the things the Muggle way so they wouldn't be detected, as much fun as that was.

"Is he sure?" she asked, understanding the reasoning but naturally being cautions.

"Positive, apparently he 'accidentally' came across some very noteworthy papers Fudge had sent to Travers."

"And nobody else knows?"

"Nope."

"That's strange," she muttered absently.

"Not really," Buffy snorted, so very lady like. "Think about it, mom. The Ministry has a blind spot, do you really think Iron-Clad himself would want the whole world to know about it? Sunnydale is off the radar and off their limits, whatever happens there stays there. They could care less."

"Guess I shouldn't have expected anything else from, Fudge," Joyce said as she shook her head.

"Yeah."

Sunnydale. Angel. So much for a distraction. Her chest began to hurt again, and Buffy felt the tiny lump in her throat. He died seven months ago, returned two months ago, and just yesterday did she find out he was alive. She hadn't seen him in nine months, and with one glance it brought every ounce of love back. One she had thought was over, but only to have it return to her and be even more painful than before. Because Angel was alive, and she couldn't have him. No matter how badly she wished things would change.

"Buffy? Are you all right?"

She was silently looking toward the floor. Her shoulders slumped heavily. And when Buffy looked up, Joyce finally noticed the dark circles under her eyes, underneath faint red rims.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she muttered thickly. "I didn't sleep well last night, or at all actually. I'm just, kinda tired."

"Maybe you should get some rest," she suggested worriedly.

"Yeah, okay," she nodded absently, sounding as though she wasn't even there. "That sounds good."

Without another word, Buffy rose from the bed and walked to the door on autopilot. All she wanted to do was sleep and make the world disappear. To let herself forget. She just hoped that once her head hit the pillow her brain would get the message.

Joyce watched after her, knowing it was more than just being tired causing Buffy's mood. It's the strangest thing, you bring up a child and you get instincts. Sighing deeply, she moved the pillow Buffy had held in her arms and left at the edge of the bed, and placed it back with the others. It was Angel. She was sure of it. Buffy looked like an unhappy girl in love, a look she knew of all to well. One she used to see constantly in the mirror.

"Everything all right?"

But a look that was now far behind her.

"Everything's fine," she smiled.

"You weren't too hard on her were you?" he asked, plopping down onto the bed.

"What kind of mother do you think I am?"

"Well, the words cruel and ruthless come to mind."

"See, and that's why I'm leaving."

She began heading for the door when Sirius grabbed her hand and pulled her closer to him; wrapping a comforting arm around her as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"I saw her on my way here," he said softly. "She doesn't look all right."

"That's because she's not," she sighed in concern. "But you know, Buffy. She just needs a little time. She knows I'll be here when she needs me."

"Is it bad?"

Joyce sighed again, worry filling her breath. "It's, Angel."

And that explained it all.

No one saw Buffy for the rest of the day. She slept. And slept. And slept. Joyce peeked in. Sirius peeked in. Remus peeked in. Molly peeked in. Fred, George and Ginny peeked in. And before the day was over, Harry had sneaked in his turn, but he only found what everyone else had. A quiet lump underneath the covers inside a dark room. Which did not bode well for their concern. She couldn't be that tired could she? But whatever the cased was, they didn't want to disturb her to find out. So, they let her sleep for as long as she needed to.

The next morning the sun dared to slip in between the curtain and the wall, and much to her delight, on her still sleeping face. Which didn't stay sleeping for long. Slowly and begrudgingly, Buffy pried her eyes open. Stupid sun. Groaning in annoyance, she shifted underneath the covers and began to stretch her limp muscles. What time was it? Reaching toward her night stand, she picked up the small ticking Scooby clock: 11:36. She had been sleeping on and off for over twenty-four hours. Wow, okay, that's . . . a lot of hours. She wasn't in a coma was she? Rubbing her face, she moved off the bed she was sure was imprinted with her outline by now and headed toward the bathroom. A visit that was long over due.

"So, you are still alive."

Buffy immediately smiled when she turned to look at the person standing at her now opened doorway, as surprised as she was. "Well, it was touch and go there for a minute."

"So, it would seem," said Ginny, closing the door behind her and casually walking over to take a seat on Buffy's bed. "You know you had us worried there for a while."

"For sleeping?"

"For sleeping for over twenty-four hours."

"Hm," she shrugged. "Guess it must've been something I ate."

"You mean air?"

"I heard it can make a person drowsy."

"I thought it was gassy."

Jokes, good, they caused comfort. Somewhat. Or very little in this case. Buffy nervously moved back to her bed and took a seat next to her 'still up in the air' friend. Ginny was here and talking to her, so that was a good sign. They were getting to the point of mending whatever needed to be mended.

"So . . . are we going to do the whole awkward thing first, or should we bypass that for the heart of the matter?" Buffy asked.

"Well, for sanity sake," she began. "I say, heart of matter."

"Okay," she nodded. "Good." Now where to start? Guess the safest bet would be . . . "have you talked to Fred and George?"

"Yes, and they told me everything," she replied, and Buffy panicked. "About you and Draco being friends, and that you were only joking when Ron overheard you say you were spying for Umbridge." Oh, that. Phew. Her lungs could start working again. "And although it took me a while to understand why you would still be friends with, Malfoy," Ginny grinned teasingly. "I get it. You two grew up together, it's only natural that you'd still remain close."

"So . . . does knowing all this new and very, very true information, convince you that I'm not Umbridge's lackey?"

"Somewhat," she replied, sounding reluctant, and Buffy wanted to scream. How much more proof did this girl need? "I should've never doubted you in the first place." Okay, see now that was better. "I mean, you haven't given me a reason to. You've only been nice to me since we became friends. And Ron doesn't exactly have the most unbiased opinion when it comes to you. I shouldn't have made up my mind without talking to you first. So, I'm sorry."

"Thanks," she smiled. "And I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I don't know," she said, looking up thoughtful for a second. "It felt like an I'm sorry moment."

Ginny shook her head and let out a small laugh. "Well, seeing as you don't need to be, I don't accept your I'm sorry."

"Well, thank you," she curtly nodded. "I accept your nonacceptance of my apology."

Girls didn't get any stranger than, Buffy. At least Ginny hoped not. One confusing friend was all she could handle, or two counting Luna.

They grew quiet in being unsure or what to say next. I'm sorry's were said and then accepted, or unaccepted on one account, and life could move on. They were no longer on un-speaking terms, which lead Ginny to struggle with her curiosity. The question had been plaguing her for the past two days. Yes, no, maybe so. It really was just a simple yes or no question, but a question that would only lead to more if she got the answer she knew she was going to get.

"Buffy, if I ask you something will you be honest with me?"

Danger, Will Robinson. At the sound of her hesitant voice Buffy could almost hear the warning bell. This was so not going to lead somewhere good was it.

"Depends."

Ginny struggled with it. On one hand it was none of her business, on the other, when was she ever going to get an opportunity like this. And Buffy could always just tell her no if she didn't want to answer.

"You knew, Angelus, didn't you," she said.

Yep, not good. "That didn't sound like a question."

"I know."

Angelus, not Angel. Buffy felt a groan coming on for some reason, and with just one more second . . . Luna. Drusilla. Stupid books with all the knowledge of past history. Hello, wasn't that where it was supposed to stay. In the past.

"Why do you think I know, Angelus?" her voice was serious, low and guarded.

"The other day," Ginny replied, sudden guilt coming to her at the notice of her tone. "After you got your letter, when Sirius, Remus and your mum were following you out of the kitchen, they mentioned Angelus's name."

It's always the adults. Can't keep a secret. Buffy's hands fisted for a second, and she squeezed her eyes. She was backed into another corner here. What was it with these Weasley kids? In her opinion, they were much too observant for their own good. If they weren't so pro the side of good, the world would be in serious trouble.

"I knew him," she admitted flatly. There was really no point in hiding it out.

"How?"

"Look, Ginny," she said rapidly. "You wanted to know if I knew him, and now you know. So, let's just leave it at that okay."

She had hit a chord, and it never occurred to Ginny that it was even an option. But now she could see Buffy's bared pain and it kicked that comfort instinct in her again.

"He hurt you didn't he?" she asked tentatively after a small moment of silence.

In more ways than one. God, she didn't want to talk about this, not after the other night. She had Angel dreams and felt the longing the second her eyes opened, and now she had to relive Angelus at the very mention of his name. It was her own little punishment, tailored made for what made her the most vulnerable. She was sure it was the debt she had to pay, for something people kept trying to convince her, wasn't her fault. Though her guilt said different.

"I don't want to talk about," she mumbled.

Ginny noticed how Buffy had shrunk into herself. She should've kept her big mouth shut. Why did she even bring it up?

"Buffy, I'm--" As she spoke, Ginny stretched her arms across her legs, which caused her wand to slip out of her sleeve, and clatter to the floor. Great. Perfect.

Rolling her eyes, she gave a small huff of irritation_. It works just as good as a store-bought holster_, you'd think she would've learned never to listen to Fred and George by now. Lowering herself to the floor, she flattened herself against the boards and went looking for her wand. She was about to move some of Buffy's clothes out of the way, when she came across one very big surprise. A very disturbing, question filled, eye widening surprise.

"Uh, Buffy?"

"Yeah."

She had been told time and time again to pick up her clothes, but how was she supposed to know that someone was going to be looking under her bed. It had been a late and fight-worn night when she went out with Tonks, and she was tired, she didn't feel like tidying up, so she just threw off her clothes and stuffed them out of sight. She would worry about them later.

Well, it was later.

"Why do your clothes have blood on them?"

*****

Note: Geez, my mind is all a flutter. I have so many ideas going on for this story that it makes it hard to sort it out. Where I want it to go, where to put this, where to put that. So I'm sorry for the delay. I say blame the brain. It's not doing anything anyway. Just sittin' there. Lazy :) I just want to thank everyone for the reviews and for being patient with me. It means a lot that you still stick to this story, no matter how long it may take me to update. I swear by the time I get past the Christmas part of this story, it will actually be Christmas. Which is making the story a whole lot longer than I planned :s


	39. Chapter 39

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

They had been inhabiting the same roof for over a week, and the most he said to her was, well, nothing. He looked at her, peaked at her, and that was pretty much it. He did think about talking to her. More than once, twice, three times actually, but hesitated before a single word came to mind. He thought he would have to wait three weeks, and now here she was and he was behaving like a coward. Of course it would have been easier if they didn't have a habit of arguing every time either one of them said a word. It would make any person a little wary. But he knew he couldn't put it off any longer. Especially since he knew he would have to make the first move after their last 'friendly' chat.

Closing the door gently behind him, he felt the floor creak beneath his feet. The squeaking sounds announcing his presence.

"Mom, I already told you I'm not--" Turning around Buffy realized that the new person in the room was definitely not her mother. "Hi," she said in surprise.

"You're not high?" Harry asked amused.

She gave a tiny, embarrassed laugh that settled into a tiny, teasing smile. "Well, I'm waiting for the dead rodent smell to kick in," she said. He gave a small chuckle and that tiny smile that lay on her lips soon disappeared. Replaced by a slightly apprehensive look. "We're not gonna start arguing again are we?"

"I hope not," he said, giving a shy smirk.

"Good," she responded, sounding relieved. "Cause it was getting a bit old don't cha think?"

"Definitely," he replied, a little more than relived himself.

They grew quiet. Neither one of them really knowing where to go from here. She noticed how fidgety he was. He was nervous, she could tell, but then again so was she. They still had a somewhat ways to go before they settled into some sort of comfort zone. Of course just staring at him wasn't going to ease the situation either. So, offering a glimpse of a friendly smile, Buffy slowly turned forward again. Her insides feeling all knotty as she resumed her previous task.

Okay, so far, no loud words. That was good. All they had to do was keep it up. Scratching the back of his neck nervously, he moved closer to where she was sitting.

"D-do you mind if join you?" he asked, his cheeks tinging slightly at the stutter.

Buffy glanced up toward him. Surprised he was asking. Surprised he was even up here. "Oh, uh, no. Of course not," she answered. "Pull up some floor."

They shared a wobbly smile as he lowered himself next to her. Friendly, polite and unsure. Then they settled into one of those awkward and tense silences again. You'd think they'd be used to those by now.

So, here he was. Now what? Harry racked his brain for something to talk about that didn't sound completely stupid, or would start any kind of fighting, then he suddenly remembered what Buffy had begun to say when he first came into the room. At least it was something.

"So, what is it that you're not doing?" he asked.

It took her a second to realize what he was talking about, and when she did an annoyed sigh escaped her lips.

"Hiding," she replied.

"Aren't you?" he smirked knowingly.

"Yes," she replied, barefaced. "But my mother doesn't need to know that."

Harry grinned. "Get's annoying doesn't it? Having everybody keep asking you if you're okay."

"Actually, I think annoying falls short. But then again you would know all about that wouldn't you." Oh, he definitely knew all about that all right, which is why she didn't wait for him to respond. "Besides we couldn't just let Buckbeak starve now could we."

They turned to look at the creature in question, who was looking back at them in return, or more specifically at Buffy who had its food in her hand.

"So, is that your excuse for being up here?"

"That," she nodded, and then tossed the dead rodent to the Hippogriff, who gobbled it right up "And feeding Buckbeak gives me a twisted sense of satisfaction."

That was definitely an odd thing to say, and from the unapologetic look on her face, it seemed Buffy was extremely aware of that fact.

"Because?" he asked.

Lifting up another dead rat by the tail, she dangled it in front of him, and Harry could feel his lunch about to meet his throat again.

"Remind of you anybody?"

A flash of Peter Pettigrew's face came to his mind. So, did the anger that usually came right along with whenever he remembered the rat. Turning quickly to her, he noticed a knowing look on her face. Like she knew exactly who he was thinking about. Probably because she was thinking the same thing, or else, why did she get that twisted sense of satisfaction from feeding dead rats to the bird-like creature.

Without saying a word, Buffy handed the dead rodent over to Harry. Without hesitation, Harry grabbed its tail and tossed it over to Buckbeak. Both of them watching as the Hippogriff began to tear it apart. And a tiny, little feeling of satisfaction rose up in him. Right before a troubled one settled in his chest when he realized how morbid this was.

"This is disturbing," he said, as he turned to her.

"Tell me about," she replied. "Not to mention it makes my hands all smelly afterwards."

Harry looked down at his up turned palms and screwed up his face. Knowing they were most likely stinky by now, and how badly they might smell. After all, you can't handle a dead rat without getting some sort of stench on your hands.

As she watched him, Buffy couldn't help but smile at how cute he looked as he made the expression. N-not that she thought he was cute, it was more like bunny cute, not boy cute, not that he wasn't boy cute, it's–okay just gonna stop thinking now.

"So, get anything good for Christmas?" she desperately tried to reach for a new topic.

"A few things," he said, wiping his hands on his jeans, which then occurred to him was not such a good idea. Now he was going to have rat smelling jeans. Just what every boy wants. "I got a wallet from Hagrid, and Sirius and Remus gave me a book. And, uh, Ron gave me a big box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans . . . "

A sudden memory popped into her mind when she heard Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. A very clear memory. His face screwed up in disgust, herself laughing. She had almost forgotten about that. She smiled as she remembered and felt herself getting pulled back into the memory; and before she realized what she was doing, she caught Harry completely by surprise and punched him gently on the arm.

Whatever he was thinking, flew out of his mind. His eyes went wide, he stopped talking, his mouth dropped slightly and he looked completely bewildered.

"Didn't think I'd forget did you?" she asked, her eyes teasing him to remember.

"What . . . " He thought back, maybe it was something he had said. And slowly but surely, it was. Suddenly his own memories came flooding through, and she made perfect sense. Only he saw it differently, and he wasn't about to take it laying down. He was right. He said it then and he would say it now.

"No, now wait a minute. I never--" he began to argue.

"Oh, you so did."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"No, no, no."

"Yes, yes, yes."

"No, I remember it and--"

"So, do I."

"No. See, there was a smell."

"There was no smell. Stop saying there was a smell."

"There was a smell!"

"Admit it. I won!"

"You did not!"

Their voices had become excited as they lost themselves in the argument. Falling back into the comfort they had felt back then in the process.

"Yes, I did! I remember it," she championed for her side. "You reached into the bag, popped it into your mouth and then made the face. You so made the face!"

"No, I reached into the bag, put it in my mouth, and then that was that," he explained. "It was disgusting, but that's not why I made the face."

"Yes, it was!"

"No, it wasn't!"

"Yes. It was."

"No. It wasn't. There was a smell."

"You smell!"

The moment she said it, they burst into laughter. They couldn't help it. And it felt good. It felt needed. The moment those first few chuckles were let out, they could feel their nervousness and tension melt away. Something that had been plaguing them since Buffy had come back.

Leaning back on her arms, Buffy let her final giggles spill as she regained her steady breathing. "I'm curious," she began, then cleared her throat for good measure. "What was the flavor anyway?"

He let out one last chuckle before he could answer. Which took him a minute to remember. "It was, uh . . . rotten egg, I think."

"Ew," she spewed, scrunching her eyebrows together. "Maybe that was the smell."

They let out whatever small chuckles they had left, and soon after they grew quiet again. But this time it wasn't awkward or uneasy. As a matter of fact, it was the opposite.

"Listen, Buffy," Harry softly broke through the silence. "I just wanted to apologize. Again. For what happened. You were right. I guess it never occurred to me that life can be just as complicated have way around the world as it can be here. And, I'm sorry."

"Thanks," she said in appreciation. "But to be fair, I didn't exactly give you notice. You couldn't 've known what was going on. So, part of it was my fault too. I should've written, at least to say I was going to be unreachable for a while. It was kinda messed up of me to just leave you hanging like that. So, I'm sorry too."

"Sounds like we both have a lot to be sorry for," he pointed out.

"And a lot of time to catch up on," she agreed, before the nervous flutters began when she realized how unsure she was of her previous statement. "I-I mean if you want. We don't have to if you don't want to. It's not like there's pressure here. Cause there's not. You know, pressure. It's just a suggestion, but I would understand if--"

"Your rambling," he smiled at the familiarity, remembering how she would even ramble in her letters.

"Right. Stopping now," she smiled in embarrassment. "But, we're good now right? Or are there any more unexpected squabbles I should be expecting?"

"Merlin, I hope not," he let out in a semi-groan, and then leaned back to rest on his elbows. "But who knows. Now that we're talking again, you'll probably do something to wreck it."

"Right," she drawled. "Cause it's always my fault."

"Truer words were never spoken."

Glaring, Buffy gave him a gentle push, and slowly the comfort level began to rise little by little. Their smiles didn't look uneasy and it seemed like the grudge that had been holding them apart was getting to be past. Finally.

Grabbing another rat from the bag, Buffy tossed it over to Buckbeak. Both she and Harry quietly watching in morbid fascination as it tore it apart.

"I still won by the way," she said.

"Yeah, yeah."

* * *

Second year . . .

They hadn't told him anything, and he wasn't even sure why he was worried. She did a nice thing, as out of character as that was. He just needed to ease his conscience that's all. He just wanted to make sure she was okay, and then that would be that. No more worry and it would be out of his mind.

Creeping into the empty room, he kept his eyes and ears peeled for a warning. It was past curfew, he was out of bed and being where he shouldn't. Wrapping the cloak tighter around himself, he made it across, to the farthest bed in the corner, behind the curtain. He quickened his pace, hoping to get in and out before he was seen. One peak and then he was gone. That was the plan. Arriving at the only occupied bed, he steeled himself for whatever may be, and faced her.

Not a scratch, scrape or bruise. She was okay, and he let out a breath of relief. So much for all that unnecessary worry.

He couldn't help but stand there for a minute, to watch as she slept. He had never seen her look so peaceful. No smirk or haughty expression on her face. She looked innocent and delicate. Not even close to the same girl he had grown to dislike so deeply. It was almost unreal.

Suddenly, she jerked her face to the side and he flinched back, startled. Her eyebrows scrunched together, and her eyes squeezed tighter. She looked like she was in pain. Before he had a chance to breathe, she snapped her head to the other side, her expression unchanged. He could hear her breathe heavily, and see her hands bunch the sheets into her fists.

He moved closer, hoping to help in some way but didn't know how. Her head thrashed faster and faster, and whimpers escaped her lips. His heart beat quicker and he began to panic.

"Buffy," he whispered, hoping that waking her would snap her out of it. "Buffy."

Her eyes suddenly popped open and she gasped for air. Beads of sweat were sprinkled over her skin. Her face flushed in exertion. Her wide-open eyes soon began to move rapidly over the entire room, trying to figure out where she was. Finally, they came to land on him, and her eyes narrowed in confusion. What . . . right, the cloak. He didn't need her to be anymore distressed than she already was. Pulling it off, he revealed himself, and when she noticed who he was, he could see her relax. A very unexpected reaction.

Whenever they came across each other, they always felt some sort of response: annoyance, irritation, dislike, nausea but not once had that response ever been relief. It was strange, even more so when he felt something, an unknown something, jolt within him at the sight of it.

"Harry," she breathed, her voice sounding relieved

He was familiar. She knew him. That means she was awake, and out of the nightmares.

"Are–are you alright?"

She cleared her throat, and shook her head gently, trying to clear her mind. "Yeah, I . . . I was having a bad dream."

Just a bad dream. He could relate to that. He had many of those himself. Okay, so, she was fine. Alive and healthy. He didn't need to worry anymore and they could go on hailing insults at each other as soon as she was back in class. He just needed to say what he came to say, on the off chance she was still awake, and then get out.

"Well, I, uh . . . I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he said trying to excuse himself. Feeling a little uneasy with her wide-open eyes so intently on him. "A-and to thank you, for what you did. I would've said it sooner but you were, sort of, unconscious." She still didn't say anything, and it was even more unnerving. "So, I guess I'll just, let you get back to sleep . . . and, uh, good night, then."

His face felt warm, as he began to turn away, and he wasn't even sure why.

"Wait!" she called out suddenly, and he turned back. Her voice coming out hesitant and soft. "Will . . . will you stay with me?"

His eyes went wide with surprise, and it took him a while to process what she had just said. It was an unusual request coming from her. They insulated each other, mocked each other, pretty much did everything to get on each other's nerves, and now she was asking him to stay. Did she realize what she was saying? And Harry wondered if maybe she wasn't okay. She must've hit her head or something.

"I . . . "

"It's just," she said, sounding a little embarrassed. "I don't like hospitals. No matter how small they are, and . . . I don't want to be left by myself. I mean you don't have to stay if you don't want to. And I would understand if you wouldn't. I just . . . I don't want to be alone."

Harry felt that jolt inside of him again. She sounded so vulnerable, even a little afraid. Her wide eyes almost pleading, and he knew he wouldn't be able to walk away. Not with her looking like that. It was just for one night, he told himself. Just until she fell asleep. Then things would go back to normal. Nothing's changed.

Looking around, to make sure he wouldn't be seen and get into trouble, he walked to the other side of the bed and pulled up a nearby chair. Resting his cloak on his lap just in case he needed to pull it on in a flash.

She was both surprised and relieved he had agreed to stay. She would've never asked, especially not of him, vulnerability was not something she liked to show, but her mind wasn't exactly in strong state right about now. She just knew she didn't want to be left alone. Not after the nightmares that were still fresh, and especially not here.

They sat quietly. They weren't friends, and being in a place all alone was not exactly what they considered comfortable.

"So . . . why," Harry began, and then cleared his throat, hoping sharing a conversation would help to ease things. "Why, uh . . . why don't you like hospitals?"

Her face turned away from him immediately, and he could've kicked himself. It wasn't any of his business. He should've known that. Now, she was upset– n-not like he cared, cause he didn't, it was just none of his business and he didn't need her to get hysterical and him into trouble. That was all. He was almost about to apologize when she spoke, and he had never heard her sound so small.

"My cousin died in one," she admitted. "When I was eight. I hated them ever since."

She didn't know why she told him. Only three people knew about her aversion to hospitals. Draco not being one of them. Must be her weak state of mind again. She would spill her heart out right now if someone asked her to.

"I'm sorry."

Buffy only shrugged, but kept her face away from him, and Harry was afraid to say anything else. The quiet greeted them again. They could hear the faint sounds of splashing from the Merpeople coming from the lake, the chirping of crickets and the hooting of owls as they passed by the windows.

"Can I ask you something?"

Harry jumped slightly at the sound of her soft voice as it penetrated through the silence.

"Er . . . sure."

Slowly Buffy turned to face him, and her voice broke a little. "What happened to me?"

She couldn't remember anything. All she had in her mind were the nightmares, but they couldn't be real. Things like that . . . the things she had done . . . she had seen . . .

"I . . . you don't know?" he asked, confused. She didn't know why she was up here? Does that mean that she didn't know what had occurred down in the Chamber? What she had done?

"When I woke up last night, my mum was here, so was Dumbledore," she said after a brief shaking of her head. "But they wouldn't tell me anything. They just kept ordering me to rest, and then told me that once I got better they would explain."

Harry scratched the back of his head, flustered about what to say.

"Oh, well, t-to tell you the truth," he stuttered out. "They, uh, they didn't tell me anything either."

"But you said you came here to check if I was okay?"

"Well, I-I did."

"Then you obviously know more than I do," she pointed out. "I mean, you could tell me what you do know? Maybe that would help me remember."

He was definitely in a tough spot wasn't he. Being asked to tell her things that people obviously tried to prevent her from knowing. So, the question was: should he tell her? Maybe they didn't want her to know? But why wouldn't they want her to know? Why couldn't she remember? There had to be reason. A very valid one if Dumbledore himself didn't want her knowing.

"I don't know, Buffy," he said, uncertainty in his tone, one she picked up on immediately.

"Please, Harry," she pleaded. "I promise I won't say anything. You just . . . you don't know how frightening it is not to remember what you've done. Not knowing how or why you ended up in a hospital. Not knowing . . . not knowing anything."

There was that heartbreaking look on her face again. She definitely knew how to use those didn't she. And he couldn't help but fall for them. Did the world turn upside down and nobody told him? In only a few minutes he went from disliking, to the point of loathing, Buffy Summers to apparently giving into whatever she wanted. She was manipulating him somehow. That had to be it. And he should know better than to fall for it. She was evil. Downright evil. And he should walk out that door this very second.

"Okay," he resigned. So much for walking out the door. "But remember, you promised not to tell anybody."

"I know, I promise," she agreed eagerly. Hoping to unlock her mystery soon.

"All right." This was a bad idea. A very, very bad idea, but his mouth apparently didn't seem to care. "You see--"

"Ms. Summers?"

Uh-oh, Pomfrey. Harry immediately pulled the cloak over himself, and rose from his chair.

"You better go," Buffy whispered. She didn't need him to get into trouble, because for some reason she actually cared if he did. Strange. Maybe she must've hit her head or something.

"Ms. Summers," Pomfrey called out again.

"I'll come back tomorrow," he whispered back, not even sure why. He could've just left her in dark about what happened. She was alive and okay, so he's conscience was at ease, he didn't need to come back. So, why did he want to?

"You promise?" And apparently he wasn't the only one.

"Ms. Summers?" Pomfrey's voice was getting closer.

"I promise," he smiled. Not like she could see it, but he could see her, and once again she looked relived. And there was that jolt once again.

* * *

Note: Once again I hope the chapter came out all right. I know some people were waiting for the whole Buffy/Harry situation to patch up already. So, I'm waiting with fingers crossed. Thanks everyone for the reviews. They make me happy whenever I see one in my email! :)


	40. Chapter 40

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

Second year . . .

"Your turn," she grinned triumphantly, chewing on her bean.

Harry closed his eyes and reached into the bag. Please be normal. Please be normal. Picking one from the pile, he pulled it out and with one swift move, dumped into his mouth. Ugh! Ear wax. It had to be ear wax didn't it? But he couldn't lose now, Buffy was already ahead. So, with great effort he forced his face to remain still.

"You twitched."

"I did not."

"I saw your nose move."

"It's called breathing."

"No one breathes that harshly."

"I do."

She glared at him, as he chewed on his candy. "Cheater."

"You know it's not nice to call yourself names."

Grabbing a Drooble from her pile, she aimed for his head, but Harry caught it without hesitation. Stupid Seeker skills.

"Doesn't matter, I'm still wining," she said smugly.

"Yeah, yeah."

Unexpected. Unexplainable. Totally topsy-turvy. That was the only way to describe it. One day, which seemed like ages ago, they were at each other's throats, belittling each other as much as they could squeeze into a day and now . . . now . . .

"Your turn," he grinned.

Now, they were playing the Flinching Game.

After that first night, Harry went back again and again. Night after night. After everyone had gone to sleep, he sneaked into the hospital wing and kept Buffy company until she drifted off into dreamland herself. And if you had asked them how things had changed so much between them, in so few days, they would answer you with the most honest answer they could give. They had absolutely no idea.

It slowly began simmering on the first night. When Buffy had let her guard down and Harry had caught a glimpse of the softer side of Buffy so few had seen. It began to grow on the second, when Harry had told her everything that had happened down in the Chamber of Secrets, from what he knew at least, and when Buffy showed honest concern for his well being as well as for Ginny's, his opinions began to change. Then on the third night . . . on the third night that's when things really turned.

Harry had absolutely no reason to be there on that night, other than the fact that he wanted to be. Simple as that. And though it was a little tough at first to ease into a flow of conversation, by the end of the night there seemed to be no trouble at all. Mostly due to three things: One, Buffy seemed to have an opinion on everything and Harry felt the freedom to express his own ideas without restriction. Two, Buffy actually had a wicked sense of humor that Harry enjoyed, and Buffy realized Harry had a funny bone or two inside his body as well. And three . . . well, as it turns, two people with competitive streaks made for one strange comfort zone.

So now, it was the fourth night, and here it was, the Flinching Game in its second round.

"My turn," she said nervously, and sneakily glanced into the bag before closing her eyes and putting her hand in.

"You peaked," he accused, and rightly so.

"No, I didn't," she brushed off, and picked her bean.

"Cheater."

"You know it's not nice to call yourself names."

Smiling brilliantly at Harry's narrowed eyes, Buffy popped her mystery flavor into her mouth. Right before scrunching her face up in disgust.

"Ha," he grinned victoriously, and punched her gently on the arm.

"Vomit," she shuddered, forcing the candy down her throat.

"See what happens when you cheat."

"All-right Mr. Morality, it's your turn."

Not coming down from his small victory, Harry took his turn with a smirk on his face. That very soon disappeared when the flavor penetrated his tongue.

"Ha," she mimicked, and punched him gently on the arm, or at least she thought it was gently.

"Ow," he cried out, spitting out the Tripe flavored bean in the process. "That hurt."

"Don't be such a baby."

"No, I'm serious."

He was rubbing his arm like he was in real pain. She didn't hit him that hard did she? She had been feeling stronger lately. A lot stronger than she ever had actually. As a matter of fact her whole body felt different. She felt . . . powerful.

"Whatever," she shrugged.

"Well, thank you so much for your concern," he rolled his eyes, giving up on his sure to be bruised shoulder.

"Hey, I'm the one in the hospital bed," she pointed out, grabbing a Chocolate Frog from her ever-growing pile of sweets, thanks to her Slytherin mates.

"Why are you still here anyway? Shouldn't they have released you by now?"

"Who knows," she shrugged again, unwrapping the candy and automatically giving Harry the card inside it without a look or second thought. "They're probably just keeping me here to keep, Pomfrey, busy."

Harry looked down at his card: Wilfred Elphick. He already had this one. Tucking it into his pocket, he put it with the other four she had given him tonight.

"You know if you keep eating all that chocolate, you'll never get to sleep."

"Probably," she replied.

He watched as she took another bite and shook his head. "Slytherins," he sighed disapprovingly.

"Gryffindors," she mimed him.

"All of them useless," they said at the exact same time.

Reaching over to the small tray that stood across Buffy, and filled with more candy than she could handle, he grabbed a Chocoball.

"Hypocrite," she said, just as Harry touched the unwrapped candy to his lips. And with a smirk and a wink, popped it into his mouth.

"All of them useless," she said again.

"Gwyffindos?"

"No," she shook her head smiling. "Boys."

* * *

"Well, isn't this cozy."

Turning away from Buckbeak stripping apart his meal, Buffy and Harry looked around and found a scowling Ron Weasley, arms crossed and glaring at them from the doorway.

"H-hey, Ron," Harry greeted weakly. "What are you doing up here?"

"Mum, sent me to find you," he answered sharply. "Suppers ready."

"Oh . . . uh, thanks."

"What are _you_ doing up here?"

"Er . . . nothing, we were just, you know, talking."

"Why?" he asked abruptly.

"Why what?"

"Why would _you two _be talking?"

"Uh, well . . . "

Harry turned to look at Buffy, who locked eyes with him for a second, a flash of hurt springing into them at his lack of defense before she turned back to look at Buckbeak again. Her body now leaning away from him. Not really the best of signs. Taking a risk, Harry hesitantly turned to look at Ron again, who was now glaring harder than before. And then he had to face it. Rock[Harry]Hard place.

"Hey, Ron!" Fred grinned, slapping his brother on the back as he appeared beside him, before noticing the scowl that seemed to be permanent on Ron's face nowadays. "What's got your knickers in a twist this time?"

Before Ron could reply, Fred looked inside the room for the first time, and, much to his happy little heart, got his answer.

"Well, look at what we have here," he said, flinging an arm around his brother and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "We weren't interrupting anything were we?"

Harry's mouth had just opened, though unsure of what he was going to say, when Buffy suddenly rose to her feet and dusted off the seat of her pants.

"Nope," she said carelessly. "Nothing at all."

"Are you sure? Because we could go and leave you two alone," Fred grinned.

"Wouldn't make much of a difference," she grumbled, walking out of the room without a word.

"Why do I get the feeling that this is your fault," Fred told Harry, raising an eyebrow at the now brooding wizard, but didn't wait for a reply as he soon followed Buffy out of the room.

And then there were two, but Harry seemed to be finding himself caring less and less about Ron's disapproval with the way he had coward about Buffy's near rekindled friendship. And he really didn't feel like talking about it either.

"So, are you two friends now or something?" Ron asked, as Harry was about to pass him on the doorway.

"Or something," he clipped, pausing his steps.

"I don't believe this," he snorted, shaking his head. "First Ginny, and then Fred and George, and now you. It seems that I--"

"Ron, this isn't about you." Why was it so difficult for him to understand that? "Us being friends with, Buffy, is not an attack on you."

"Oh, so you are friends."

"I didn't say that."

"Than what are you?"

That was a very good question, and with recent actions on his part, one he didn't have an answer to either.

"I don't know, exactly, but--"

"After everything I told you about, Umbridge. What I overheard her telling, Malfoy. You still think you can trust her?"

"I didn't say I trusted her."

"Do you?"

"No," he rushed out, a Freudian slip, but then second guessed his own answer. "I mean, I don't . . . I don't know."

A floorboard suddenly creaked just a little below them, and startled, they turned toward the sound.

"Buffy," Harry said, surprised.

Her mouth was slightly open and her eyes were wide with hurt. Apparently she had heard everything.

"You know what," she said, regaining her senses. Boys. All of them useless. "Sweaters not really all that important. I'll just grab another one from somewhere."

She was already down the stairs and out of sight before he could form a single word. Had she always been that fast?

Harry stood there, staring at the empty spot where Buffy had been. He was going to be apologizing to that girl for the rest of his life wasn't he? It was always going to be one thing or another. Out of all the girls he has ever known, Buffy was the one he understood the very least. And as much of a headache as that was, he still stuck around. That couldn't be normal. But when exactly had he ever been normal.

Ron felt a tiny spark of shame and remorse at the expression on Buffy's face. There were those unwanted feelings again. She had to be doing something to him, a spell or curse or something. But whatever it was, it seemed his brick wall against her was beginning to rumble. Shaking against those unwanted feelings, trying to keep them out. Which means it wasn't as strong as it used to be. He had to do something about that. With a resigning sigh, he moved his eyes away from Buffy's now empty spot, and settled them on the back of Harry's head. And now there was this dilemma. He didn't know how to feel about it. Buffy and Harry friends? How long had that been going on? And why didn't Harry tell him? That's what really bothered him about this whole mess. And worried him as well. Fred, Ginny and George all stated at one time or another that they had their reasons for trusting Buffy. Whatever they may be. But what about Harry? He said he didn't trust her. And it didn't take a genius to know . . .

"You can't be friends with someone you don't trust, Harry."

Ron didn't sound angry, or even bothered. He merely sounded as though he were just stating a fact. Which in this case, he was right. But that didn't mean he didn't have options.

"I can try."

"Have you even asked her about, Umbridge?"

Harry turned around and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "No, I haven't."

"Figured you wouldn't," he snorted.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked defensively.

"It means, that you, Fred, George and Ginny have a nasty habit of blindly turning the other cheek," he answered, frustrated. "It's like you've all forgotten the way she treated us. And I don't know, maybe she has changed, but does that mean we automatically forgive her for everything? Sweep the trouble she had gotten us into, the names she used to call us, the cruel way she had treated us, under the rug like it didn't matter? Not care that she's been spying for Umbridge? All of you act like . . . like all of that was okay. That any of that stuff doesn't matter."

Harry stood quietly as he pondered the words. Were they really letting Buffy off easy? Ever since that first night in the infirmary it's like he had forgotten the way she had treated him. No, that wasn't right, it was more like he didn't care. It was like after what she done for him in the Chamber remodeled how he felt. If only she hadn't made him promise not to tell anyone about it. Than maybe he would be able to make Ron understand. But what about Umbridge? There wasn't an excuse for that. A reason to understand why she had done it. They may be at odds right now, but Harry trusted Ron. He wouldn't lie. Not about something this crucial. But Harry couldn't escape that fact that he wanted Buffy as his friend, like she had been. Like he hoped she would be again. And once again he felt himself being torn. He should just split himself down the middle and get it over with.

"Look, Harry," Ron said calmly, noticing the expression on his friends face. After what happened during the TriWizard Tournament, with Ron's unjustified anger towards Harry for being chosen, Ron wasn't about to let something like this come between them. Not when Harry had so much to deal with now, and needed his friends the most. But that didn't mean he was going to stand by and let Harry get hurt either. "I don't trust her. I know what I heard. She said she was spying for Umbridge. She's been sneaking off with, Malfoy. We don't know where she's been or why she came back. And there are still a lot of unanswered questions about why she was in the Chamber of Secrets. She never got a hold of the diary, and I don't believe what Dumbledore said. So, I guess . . . I guess what I'm telling you is to be careful."

Ron needed Harry to understand. There were too many secrets surrounding Buffy. Too many cases against her. What if Harry became friends with her and ended up getting hurt because he refused to see that? Ron had already seen him get betrayed by the too many people he had trusted. He didn't want to see it again. And he'd do anything to stop it if he could.

Ron was right, but there was that tearing feeling again. Harry had his own questions about the Chamber, and he was down there. He never found out how Buffy had gotten there. How she knew what to do. And he didn't believe Dumbledore's story either about Buffy being possessed by Riddle's diary, just like Ginny had been. Something had happened to her, but whoever knew wasn't telling. And what Umbridge? What about Draco? Why did she come back? Argh! There were too many questions. He really should split himself in half. Life would be so much easier that way.

*****

She wasn't at dinner.

When Ron and Harry finally made their way into the kitchen, Buffy was nowhere to be found. Apparently she had gone out with Tonks again. Though no one saw the Bubble-Pink haired witch, seeing as she was supposedly waiting outside for Buffy. Which didn't sound like Tonks at all, but there wasn't really anything they could say about that. Especially since they knew exactly what the adults would say to them. Nothing.

Dinner came and went and she still hadn't returned. Everyone was getting ready for bed and still nothing. Where had she gone off to?

He looked up immediately when he heard the doorknob jiggle. Held his breath when she slipped through the door. And rose to his feet from the base of the stairway when she finally noticed he was there. Here goes nothing.

"Great," she mumbled to herself, closing the door quietly behind her.

Tucking a nonexistence stray hair behind her ear, she folded her arms over chest and walked closer to him. Seeing as he was near the stairs that lead to her soft, warm bed that would feel oh-so good right about now.

He didn't know what to say. He could apologize, but for what exactly? For her overhearing what he had said? For not trusting her? Those weren't exactly the kinds of things apologies were made for. But as it turns out, he wasn't the first one to speak.

"You don't trust me," she stated, her voice hard and her eyes guarded.

"I want to," he admitted honestly.

She could see it on his face, and hear it in his voice. He really meant it. But that didn't change how she felt. For some reason, after hearing his admission to Ron, the conversation in Buckbeak's room felt like a lie. Like he was only pretending to be her friend, because you can't honestly be friends with someone you don't trust. It doesn't work that way. And she felt played. Even used.

"Yeah, well _want_ isn't all that comforting."

He stood silent. She had a right to be angry, and he didn't feel right to apologize. It wouldn't be enough, and he knew that.

She shook her head and let out a humorless scoff of a chuckle at his silence, which was infuriating her even more. "Why did you even talk to me, Harry? If you don't trust me, why were you even up there? Why did you try being friends again? Was it all some sort of game?"

"No!" he denied immediately. "That's not . . . I mean . . . I . . . "

"What?" she asked impatiently. "You what?"

He stood quiet again. He wasn't even sure why, he knew the answer. Maybe it was getting the words out that was the problem. He was putting himself on the line again. But what else could he do now.

"I missed you," he admitted softly, and he saw her flinch back in surprise. "You . . . you understand. You listen. It's almost like you know what I'm going through. Everyone else . . . they say it'll be okay, and . . . but you understand. And I . . . like knowing that. Knowing how that feels."

Two peas in a pod they were.

Jeez! Why couldn't he have said the wrong thing. Why wasn't he arrogant and snobby and just . . . boy-like. No, he had to be honest and all open and all anti-boy-like. Which makes him harder to stay mad at. He always knows the right buttons to push without actually knowing it. Idiot. Stupid heart strings and there lack of resistence. Stupid . . . boys!

"I'm not spying for Umbridge," she said. Her voice no longer hard, but gentle. What was the point in pretending to stay mad now. He was honest, now it was her turn. Stupid fair play. "What Ron heard was right, but it wasn't true. What I said about Umbridge, it was only a joke. I wouldn't spy for that woman if my life depended on it. But if I could get my hands on her . . . "

Harry smiled at the serious threatening venom in her voice and the tight clenching of her fists. No one can lie about that much anger.

"What about, Malfoy?" he asked, forcing his voice to come out evenly.

"Draco's my friend, my closest even," she replied, a hint of a smile on her lips. And his stomach did a tight clenching of its own. "I've known him longer than you've known Ron or Hermione. He's just a fact of my life, and that's never gonna change. So . . . I don't know what any of this info does for you. If that changes anything. But it's the truth. All of it."

He assessed her. She wasn't stuttering or being fidgety. Her voice was calm and even. She wasn't lying. He would've known. But . . . there was still a but. She was honest about Umbridge and Malfoy, but what about everything else. She was still hiding something. She wasn't the same Buffy Summers he used to know. Something changed her. And something told him it was more than just life.

She was relieved when he nodded. He believed her. But she could see it. He still didn't trust her. Something was holding him back. But if he didn't ask, she wasn't going to tell. It would involve a lot of what she kept trying to forget, but her nightmares wouldn't let be. The past should remain closed, just like that stupid Chamber. But Voldemort just wouldn't let her be. Not in her dreams and definitely not while she was awake.

"You should've just told me," he said.

"You didn't ask," she replied defensively.

"Guess, I didn't," he grinned in embarrassment.

It was awkward again. Tense, tired, oh so very tired. All around the Mulberry Bush, the monkey chased the weasel . . .

"Well . . . I'm beat," she lamely excused, languidly moving past him and toward the stairs. "Guess I'll just call it a night."

"Okay," he nodded, and then for a brief second looked at her with the strangest expression when she turned on the stairs to look at him, but it was gone before it actually settled in her mind. Had she imagined it?

"Are you . . . " she trailed away as she gestured up the stairway.

"In a bit, I'm just gonna get something to drink."

"Okay," she said, suspicion in her voice. She looked back once as she went up the stairs, feeling his eyes on her the entire way.

Harry watched her until she was gone. Wondering if Buffy knew she had three large slashes on the back of her jacket.

* * *

Notes: Jeebuz! Sorry for the long update, my brain's already hibernating. I know a lot of people were a little iffy on the last chapter. But just because they got past the whole Buffy MIA debacle doesn't mean it's gonna be all roses ladies and gentlemen. Still gots more issues these two will need to face before the stories over. And boy will that be fun! :) Thanks everyone for the reads and reviews. So happy you guys are still sticking around. Hopefully until I complete this sucker which will be around 2010/2011 ;)


	41. Chapter 41

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

"Brooms?"

"Awesome for play and for travel."

"Black pointy hats?"

"Only for special occasions."

"Cauldrons?"

"Very sturdy for potion making."

"Wands?"

"Excellent way to channel magic."

"Bangers and mash?"

"Sausage and potatoes. Varied on tasty."

Buffy Summers, Vampire Slayer was a witch. A witch, witch. With actual powers and everything. Something in which her two friends were still trying to wrap their minds around.

"So, you can make stuff happen just by waving that little stick of yours?" Xander asked, waving his hand around to make his point.

"It's a little more complicated than that," Buffy replied, smiling at the picture he made.

"Can you show us something? Oh, can you turn Xander into a goat?" asked a giddy Willow.

"Hey!" he exclaimed in protest.

"I can try," Buffy shrugged, pointing her wand to the frightened-eyed boy.

"Buffy," Giles said in warning, before she had a chance to demonstrate her transfiguration skills.

"Spoil sport," she mumbled, and pouted as she lowered her wand, much to the relief of one Xander Harris.

"Why don't you show them something a little less drastic," Giles suggested.

"All right, fine. But it won't be as much fun."

Raising her wand again, Buffy pointed it at the stack of books on Giles's coffee table, and on the edge of their seat's Xander and Willow watched as the books disappeared with a swish and a flick.

"Those . . . those were first editions," Giles stuttered, nearing a panic attack.

"Chill, Giles," Buffy said calmly, and with another flick the books reappeared. "See no harm, no foul."

Quickly moving past the sofa, he lowered himself down to the table and picked up the volumes. Checking each one for so much as a scratch. And much to his great relief, his beloved books remained unharmed.

"Thank, goodness," he grinned happily. Carefully and gently rechecking every book again.

"Uh, Giles?" Buffy asked, and with a raised eyebrow waited for the Watcher to turn around. "Do we need to leave you and the books alone?"

Giles moved his embarrassed eyes to all three teenagers. And seeing a large grin on each of their faces, he felt his cheeks begin to warm.

"Er, uh, well, th-they are first editions," he stuttered, suddenly feeling ridiculous about his behavior. Lowering the books to the table once again, he straightened himself up and tried to regain whatever self-respect he had left. "Completely irreplaceable you know. One of a, ahem, one of a kind."

And Buffy's grin widened even more. Same old Giles.

"That wasn't a British thing was it?" Xander asked.

"Uh . . . " Buffy stumbled when the sudden face of Hermione Granger popped into her mind. "Depends on the British person."

"It's so weird thinking of you as British. I mean, British people equals Giles, and you are so not Giles," Willow commented, and at Giles's questioning look, she soon babbled her backtrack. "N-not that, that's a bad thing. Being Giles, cause you know, that would be great. I mean, you'd know all this stuff about demons and vampires and you'd drink tea and eat scones. Scones are good. D-do you eat scones, Buffy?"

"Thank you, Willow," Giles muttered, at the somewhat compliment she tried to save face with.

"I'm good with the scones," Buffy smiled. "I'm not much into the tea thing though."

"Isn't that illegal?" asked Xander.

"I'm a rebel."

"Yes, well," Giles interjected, smiling on the inside at the easy comfort they've managed to recover so quickly. "Speaking of illegal. I think it's imperative to say that everything, Buffy, has just told you, and shown you, must be held in the strictest of confidence. No one, and I mean no one must know about any of this."

"Giles, you know we–wait, what do you mean 'speaking of illegal'?" Willow asked, catching the curious little reference.

"Are you saying we're gonna get arrested if we tell people?" Xander grinned, along with Willow, at his joke. Or at least at what they honestly thought was a joke, which was until Buffy and Giles glanced at each other. A worried look that didn't go unnoticed.

"S-seriously?" Xander asked, all traces of humor on his, as well as Willow's face, gone.

Taking off his glasses, Giles began to rub them clean as he settled on the arm of Buffy's chair.

"I guess we should've informed you about the Wizarding World, prior to Buffy's admission to being a witch," he said, placing the spectacles back on his face.

"There's a Wizarding World?" asked Willow.

"Boy, is there ever," Buffy mumbled, settling herself back against the cushions knowing where this was headed.

"So, when you say 'World' you mean . . . " Xander trailed away.

"I mean, an entire society of Witches and Wizards that are governed by their own laws. They have their own government. Their own communities. It's basically an entirely different world within itself," Giles began his explanation to the two fascinated teens. While the third un-fascinated teen's mind drifted away to Never-Never-Land. Wonder if the Espresso Pump still makes those extra chocolately mochas she likes.

* * *

He shouldn't be here. So what if her jacket had a few rips. It could've been a tree, or a dog. Maybe some sort of rabid bird had . . . rabid bird? Okay, now he really was grasping at straws. Nope, he really shouldn't be here.

Harry was standing in the middle of Buffy's room. His arms at his sides as he stared at the doors covering the inside of Buffy's wardrobe. His mind debating itself every second. He said he didn't trust her, and apparently he was bent on proving that fact. What was he doing? This was a bad idea. A very, very bad idea. Ron said they couldn't be friends, but he had said he could try. And now here he was sneaking into her bedroom, while she was away visiting her friends, looking for a jacket with a few tears that might've been from anything to ease his suspicious and wary mind. Oh yeah, he really was 'trying.'

"Harry?"

Uh-oh. Harry turned immediately to the doorway. Attempting his best to remain nonchalant. Keyword: attempting.

"M-Mrs. Summers," he said, scratching the back of his head before he realized that wasn't what 'calm-Harry' would do. So he crossed his arms across his chest to keep his hands from fidgeting. "H-Hi."

"Were you looking for something?" she asked, walking into the room. He noticed that her tone wasn't accusatory but friendly, unless she was very good at hiding it.

"Oh, uh . . . I was just . . . " What? What was he doing? "I was, er, looking for . . . for Hedwig. Yeah, I, uh, I thought I saw her fly in here."

Valid? Yes. Believable? Well . . .

"Any luck?" she asked. Apparently it was believable.

"Not really," he said, unable to keep the nervous smile from his face. "I guess . . . "

Harry's words were pushed aside when curiosity stepped in. Hanging from Ms. Summers' arms was a dark, denim jacket. Buffy's dark, denim jacket. The one she had been wearing last night.

"Harry?" Joyce asked when she noticed him drift away.

Upon hearing his name, Harry blinked and his mind snapped awake.

"Sorry," he smiled. "I didn't really get much sleep last night. Guess I'm not really feeling all that well."

"Hmmm," she thoughtfully mumbled, her mothering instincts kicking in. Joyce walked over to him and placed a hand on his forehead, and Harry, who was used to being mothered by Mrs. Weasley so often, let her. It felt nice being fretted over. He'd gone without it for so long that he'd take whatever he can get, for as long as he can. "You don't feel warm. But maybe you should get some rest."

"Yeah," he nodded agreeably.

"Let me just leave this on Buffy's bed, and I'll make you some nice, hot soup," she said, walking over and laying down the garment. "It will make you feel better in no time."

"No, it's all right, you don't--"

"It's my pleasure," she smiled. "I do it for Buffy whenever she's feeling under the weather, and it always makes her feel better. So, don't you say another word."

"All right," he nodded, grinning at her insistence. "Thank you."

Joyce smiled again as she walked back to Harry and placed a motherly hand on the side of his face. "Now, why don't you go get yourself settled in and I'll bring it up to you, all right?"

"Okay," he smiled.

"Good."

She walked out and Harry was once again left alone. His eyes automatically straying over to the bed. Where Buffy's jacket lay. The pecking curiosity was at it again, but he couldn't move. It would be so easy. Walk over to the bed, pick up the jacket and . . . and then what? He hadn't exactly gotten to that part.

If he picked up Buffy's jacket, guilt would undoubtedly fill him and it would only plague him with more questions he wouldn't get answers for. Not to mention if Buffy were to ever find out about his poking around her personal property, it would be the end of whatever chance of a friendship they still had. But if he didn't . . . if he didn't . . .

Harry suddenly turned around and walked out of the room. If he didn't than that spark of chance would still shine. He said he would try and by Merlin's Beard he was going to. Because one little curiosity over a damaged jacket was not enough to sway him. Besides, it's not like Buffy had been out hunting demons. That's ridiculous. Ha, Buffy hunting demons. What was she the Vampire Slayer?

* * *

"…worse than, Snyder."

"Worse than, Snyder? Is that even possible?" asked Willow.

"If you can call having students mutilate their own hands as a form of punishment worse, than a big uh-huh."

"Wow, scary," Willow shivered, subconsciously covering her left hand with her right.

"Scary is not even close," Buffy said. "She's full-blown Freddy Kreuger. I think she might even be getting some sort of sick, twisted kick out of it."

"Don't you just love the way she talks?" Xander grinned, unfazed by talks of Umbridge and her gruesome form of punishment, and flung an arm around Buffy's shoulders.

"Be happy he hasn't asked you to leave a message on his answering machine yet."

"Ooh!"

"No," Buffy firmly denied.

"Mean," Xander stuck out his tongue.

The trio finally reached the Espresso Pump, and after ordering and receiving their drinks they settled into a table far in the corner to talk about everything wizard and demons without being overheard. Not like it would really matter in a town like this. Denial City, USA.

"So, have you talked to Angel?"

"I was gonna stop by before I left," Buffy replied. "Have you guys seen him? H-how is he?"

"We haven't seen him yet," Willow said. "He's kind of been reclusive."

"He checks in with, Giles, though," Xander added. "And the G man says he's doing okay."

"Good," she said. Relief and worry all rolled into one unenthusiastic smile.

Buffy sipped her much missed drink and let her mind wander. Angel very much first priority in her concerns. He'll be all right. He just needs a little time to get past old ghosts. He'll be fine. He–he'll be fine.

"Buffy?"

But what if he wasn't? Was it really her business anymore? As long as he didn't start killing people or try to destroy the world was he her concern?

"Buffy."

She still loved him. Always will. But that had its limitations. They couldn't get too close or the world would almost literally come to an end. She needed to move on. What other choice did she have?

"I think we've lost her."

But did moving on mean they couldn't be friends? Couldn't they at least have that? She respected Angel. His opinions. His ideas. His century old wisdom. He was stability. Buffy knew she could always rely on him. No matter how far apart they may be or what stage of their lives they were in. Angel was fact. Unwavering fact. And–

"Buffy?!"

Hello, reality.

"What?" she asked, blinking twice in attention.

Xander and Willow rolled their eyes in exasperation.

"Jeez, Buff. Where were you? Narnia?" Xander asked. "Wait. Is there really a Narnia?"

"How would I know that?"

"Angel's gonna be fine, Buffy," Willow assured her, understanding the look on her friend's face.

"I know, but . . . it's Angel, you know," she said.

"We know."

This is what she missed. Her friends. The two people who would know every freak part of her and not care. Who understood her nonverbal communication to the letter.

"Anyway, enough about me. How's the Wicca going, Wills?" Buffy asked, changing the subject to change her mood.

"Actually, it's been going really great," Willow brightly replied. "I can float pencils and turn ice into fire, sorta. I mean I'm not exactly making things disappear, and popping in and out of places. And no way near your level but--"

"Willow, my magic and your magic are totally different things," Buffy interrupted. "Believe me when I say yours is way harder."

"It is?"

"Yeah, I mean, wizards and witches, we're born with magic. All we have to do is channel it to do what we want. But you, you're like essentially creating magic. That's a toughie. A muggle doing magic, and especially up to your skill, is majorly impressive."

"Really, that's–muggle? What's a muggle?"

"Is that some sort of British cuss word or something?"

"You know not every word I say that makes a lack of sense is British."

"Sure it does," Xander grinned.

Buffy rolled her eyes and smiled. "A muggle is a non-magical person," she explained.

"But Willow can do magic."

"Yes, but she wasn't born with it, so technically she's still a muggle."

"Muggle," Willow chuckled. "Funny word."

"Yep, we definitely have our moments," she agreed. "Can't beat going to a school named, Hogwarts."

"See now that's a name," Xander commented.

"You're so lucky going to a school where all you do is study magic," said Willow. "All we do is study algebra."

"And the occasional demon," Xander pointed out.

"It is pretty great, but it's not as easy as it sounds," she informed them. "Training your magic to do what you want is kinda like trying to train a three-headed dog. Not to mention how scary it is learning to do potions that could leave you in the hospital for days."

"And here I thought living on a Hellmouth was hard," Xander sarcastically dripped.

Buffy, lifted her straw and flicked the whipped cream tip at him.

"Can never be too sweet can I, Buff?" he winked, wiping his cheek clean with his index finger before sticking it in his mouth.

"Or irritating."

Willow watched them and realized how much she really had missed this. Buffy had been gone way too long. She missed having her around. The mocking and teasing. It was like old times.

"So, speaking of school and sweet, any cute boys?" Willow asked in full girl mode.

An immediate smile came to Buffy's face. An immediate give away, too.

"Well there is one."

"Really? What's he like?"

"Dark hair, green eyes, super sweet. Totally drool worthy."

"Sounds dreamy. What's his name?"

"Theodore Nott," she smiled. " I've known him since we were kids."

"What about, Angel?" Xander asked, honestly curious, and earned him a kick to the shin from Willow. "Ow!"

"Angel's . . . not an option," Buffy sadly voiced. "The last time I was here we realized that we can't have what we want, so . . . that was pretty much it. All dreams dashed."

"Are you okay?" Willow asked, concerned.

"I'll be fine. It's just that whole 'it heals with time' thing."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm sure Angel's really miserable, too."

Buffy smiled at Willow's attempt at comfort. "Thanks. But I hope not."

It was getting depressing. Xander didn't do well with depressing.

"So, Buff, I was wondering, if by any chance, you just happened to, bring your school uniform?"

Yep, same old Xander.

They spent the rest of the afternoon together, but come nightfall Buffy headed to the far side of town. Where an old mansion on Crawford St lay. To visit an ex.

Over half an hour of awkward. Unbelievably awkward. Unusually and uncomfortably awkward. It seemed like they shared more silence than actual words.

"How's your, mother?"

"She's good."

"And school?"

"School hasn't started back up yet."

"Right."

Did I mention awkward?

"Buffy."

"Angel."

They smiled and gave a short chuckle at the crash of their names.

"You should go first," Angel offered.

"I was just gonna say . . . " I love you. I miss you. " . . . that I should be heading back."

"Oh." He sounded so disappointed that the regret was on the tip of her tongue. "I guess it's been a long day for you hasn't it?"

"Considering the time difference, it really has," she said tiredly. "But I'll stop by again before my holiday is over."

He didn't want her to leave, but what could he really say. He had to get used to this. To be without her. That was the plan. As painful and heart-wrenching as it was.

They bade goodnight, not goodbyes, and she was gone. But she didn't exactly go straight home. As tired as she was, Buffy decided to take a sweep of the cemetery. You can take the girl out of Sunnydale but you can't take Sunnydale out of the girl.

Twirling the wand in her hand, she passed by headstones with her ears ready for sound. Which came sooner than she would have expected. Buffy waited, and then she heard the leaves crunch again. Something was nearby. Slipping behind a tree, she perked her ears and waited. There were no leaves, but the footsteps were clearer now. Not to mention the strange tingle on her spine. It felt familiar and dangerous. No way near any other tingle she had ever felt.

She waited . . . and waited . . . and then kicked the source of her tingles to the ground. Game on.

Oomph! Okay apparently they knew how to play too. Buffy landed a kick and a right before her opponent landed a left. Jeez this chick packs a wallop. Left. Right. Kick. Punch. Oomph! Floor.

Buffy watched from her surprising spot on the ground as her attacker/victim neared her. But what was even more surprising was the stake in the girl's hand. What the–okay no time for what the's cause that stake was getting pretty close to her beating that would stop beating if she didn't do something fast. Lifting her wand she waved it and the girl was sent flying back. You know, those nonverbal spells Remus had put into that little spell book he had given her were coming in very handy. Thank goodness she had all those vampires and demons in the Forbidden Forest to practice on.

With her wand at the ready, Buffy moved over to the dark-haired figure who was beginning to raise to her feet. Wait! Stake. Dark hair. Skin tight clothes . . .

"Lemme guess, blonde hair, voodoo magic, kick ass strength, you must be the infamous, Buffy," the girl said, dusting herself off.

"And you must be, Faith," she correctly deduced.

Now, standing the girls couldn't help but eye each other. Competitiveness searing in automatically.

This little Dorothy size of a person was a slayer? The slayer she hears about nonstop? Guess the rapidly forming bruise on her cheek seemed to think so. Man can this chick hit.

"So, what brings you back to Kansas? Last I heard you were in the Land of Giles."

"I came to visit my friends."

"And take a stroll down slay-memory lane it seems."

"Yeah, well, what can I say, you can take the girl--what did you mean voodoo magic I must be the infamous, Buffy?"

The info had just now managed to hit her brain. How did Faith know to connect those two?

"Took you long enough," Faith grinned. "Your little Scooby Gang may be a lot of interesting things but low talkers ain't one of 'em. I heard 'em talk about your little pop in, pop out, glass shattering thing."

"You were spying on them?"

"Actually I was heading to the library to check for any demon action when I heard 'em through the door."

Can't really blame her for that. Right place, right time. Uncaring loud voices from oblivious friends.

"Okay, so you know. And I'm guessing that means that you know I'm--"

"A witch."

"Yes," she confirmed, annoyed at being interrupted. "And seeing as you know all about secret keeping and hidden identities, I don't think I need to tell you--"

"To keep it a secret."

Jeez, this girl was annoying. "Can I finish a sentence, please!"

Faith put her hands up in surrender as she enjoyed the irritation on Buffy's face.

"What was I saying?" she mumbled to herself. "Oh right. The 'don't tell anyone thing.' Well, I-I guess I'm done then."

"Jesus, B, you always this wound up?"

It sure did feel like it didn't it. It was always one thing or another since . . . well since she had become the slayer. No, since her second year. Life just didn't seem to stop its torment on Buffy Summers.

"Not always," she answered tiredly, lowering herself to the grass and leaning against a headstone. "I used to be pretty carefree. Not a worry in the world But now, I just . . . I don't even feel like myself anymore. Like I don't know who I am. It's–sorry, do you even wanna hear this?"

"I got nowhere to be," she responded, settling herself on the next grave. "Besides, any dirt from you makes me feel better."

"Charming."

"Never said I was," she shrugged.

Buffy shook her head at the unapologetic girl. Why couldn't she be like that?

"Anyway, ever since I went back to school everything just seems to have rolled up into one big ball of crap that stuck itself inside my head."

"You always this visual?" Faith asked, kinda grossed out.

"Only when I'm tired," she smiled lazily.

"So what's been so crappy about it?"

"I don't know. Actually scratch that, I do know. And I should've expected it. I just didn't expect how it would affect me. How would I feel about it."

"About what?"

"My comeuppance," Buffy replied.

"Your comeuppance of what?"

"Of how treated people. Of how I was."

You mean she wasn't always all good and selfless? Was Cinderella actually the bad step sister?

"How were you?"

"Well, you've met Cordelia right?"

"You mean Little Miss Lick My Pumps?" she asked, and Buffy nodded. "You were as bad as Queen C?"

"Actually compared to me, Cordelia seems like Mother Theresa. I put the word bitch to shame and I didn't care," she said, and gave a heavy sigh. Her mind feeling a little lighter for some reason. "But like I said, that was then. And people seem hell bent on keeping me that way. Not to mention I have to share living space with the people I treated the crappiest and for a whole school year to boot. It hasn't exactly been the best of times for me."

Why was she spilling her guts? She wasn't drunk was she? Oh, who cares. It was getting out and it felt good. No more festering, pestering feelings. Guess it's true what they say. It's always easier to talk to a stranger. Especially one who knew to ask the right questions.

"So, what, they treat you like crap and you just let 'em?" Faith asked, not understanding the behavior.

"Well, I kinda owe it to 'em don't I?"

"No," she said strongly. "Jesus, B, from what I hear this ain't like you. Your friends are always going on about you being all brave and not taking anybody's crap. And now you're telling me you let a couple a kids treat you like shit because you feel guilty about how you treated 'em what? Like two years ago."

"Well . . . I . . . yes?"

"Why?!" she exclaimed, unknowingly irritated.

Why indeed.

"I-I . . . I . . . "

I what? Had she really changed so much? Was Strong Buffy replaced by weak little Cry Baby Buffy?

"You need to get over your guilt, girlfriend. Forget about all those brats that can't deal with their childhood trauma. Life moves on and so should they. Hell, so should you!"

Get over it! Why hadn't she? Why did she care? Faith was right. It was two years ago and life moves on. Every little mean thing she did was of the past. She wasn't like that anymore. If she hadn't proven that to them since she had come back than that was their issue not hers.

"I guess you're right," Buffy admitted.

"Course I'm right," she said smugly.

Faith, was right. The question was however, does it change anything?

* * *

Note: Okay so apparently I wasn't exaggerating when I said I'd still be writing this till Christmas, or past Christmas as they case may be. But I'm almost done with their holiday here. And pretty soon Hogwarts will be revisited . . . I hope :) Thanks again for all the reviews and reads, it helps me to keep writing, even if it does take forever to post.


	42. Chapter 42

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

Every move was planned. Strategically placed for a specific reason. Once a decision was made, it couldn't be taken back. You only had one shot. If you lose. There wasn't a second chance.

"What are you guys doing?" Hermione asked.

"Playing checkers."

Harry, Ron and Hermione walked in to find everyone sitting around the dining room. Except for Mrs. Weasley who was off visiting Mr. Weasley, and Ms. Summers who was apparently somewhere else in the house.

"What's checkers?" Ron asked.

They each settled around the room as they looked at Buffy and Sirius, who were intently hunched over a black and red checker board. Which included little round pieces in the exact same colors placed individually over their own squares.

"It's a muggle game, kinda like Wizards Chess," Buffy answered without moving her eyes. Buffy played muggle games? Since when? "Except for you know, the pieces don't move and it's not exactly chess."

"So, it's nothing like Wizard's Chess."

"No," Sirius replied.

Buffy, placed her finger on a red circle piece and moved it diagonally to the right. Away from surrounding black ones.

"We tried playing another muggle game called Battleship, but Sirius blew it up."

"Why?" asked Harry.

"He kept losing," Remus said.

"Stupid muggle game," Sirius grumbled, moving his black piece to the left.

"And then there was, Monopoly," said Buffy.

"Don't tell me he blew that up, too?" Hermione asked.

"He set it on fire," Ginny replied.

"It was mocking me!" Sirius loudly defended.

"He kept landing jail," Buffy stated.

Harry and Hermione laughed, so did everyone else in the know. Ron, however, was the only one who had no idea what that meant. What did she mean Sirius kept landing in jail?

"Buffy!"

Everyone turned to the doorway at the loud call, and fifteen second later watched as Mrs. Summers made her entrance. Buttoning up her coat and quickly glancing around the room.

"Oh, I didn't realize everyone would be in here," she said, before focusing on her daughter. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah, just . . . give . . . me . . . " Buffy lifted up a red disk and hoped it over, one, two, three, four black ones. "Okay, I'm set."

"Hey!" Sirius exclaimed at his rapidly lost pieces.

"George, you wanna take over?" she asked, rising from her chair.

"It'll be my pleasure," he grinned, taking Buffy's spot.

"I wouldn't get too cocky," Sirius told him. "You've only played once, and lost."

"That was then, and I think I've got a good chance now," George said assuredly.

"Why do you think that?"

"I've been watching you play."

Sirius glared as everyone else laughed. This game was going to be an entertaining one that was for sure. And Buffy was sadly going to miss it. Well maybe not so sadly . . .

"Okay, guys, see you later," Buffy bade as she walked to the door.

"Where are you two going?" Remus asked.

"Shopping," she grinned ecstatically.

And as Buffy and her mother walked out of the dining room the last thing they heard was Sirius's arrogant voice.

"Ha! Crown me!"

Yep, one definitely entertaining game

* * *

"What about this one?"

"Mmm, too fluffy."

"Ookaaay, how aboooout . . . this?"

"That's nice."

Draping the coat over her arm, Buffy moved to the next rack.

"Oh, how about this?" Joyce asked, lifting up a charcoal grey pleated skirt. A _short_ charcoal grey-pleated skirt.

"Aren't mothers supposed to prevent their daughters from wearing things like that?"

"What? It's cute," she said, innocently.

Reaching over Buffy took the garment and placed it on her rapidly heavy arm.

"You've been picking out a lot of skirts and dresses for me today," Buffy pointed out.

"Well, it's just been a while since I've you seen you wear them."

"I wear them every day at school."

"I know, but not since you've been on vacation and I–oh, how about this?" Joyce lifted up a knee length black wool skirt. "Very cute and very conservative."

"Don't change the subject," Buffy told her, taking the item.

"Humor your mother and take the skirts and dresses," she said. "I am paying for them."

"Oh sure, play that card."

After filling her arms and her mother's arms with more clothes than she had planned, the two females moved over to an empty dressing room. Where Joyce seated herself on the proffered red couch. Might as well get comfy.

Zip. Buckle. Button. Walk out. Twirl. Nod/Head shake. Repeat. And so went the fashion show.

Stupid zipper. Ugh! Come on. Just . . . a little . . . aaah! There. Stepping out, Buffy modeled her camel colored pants and long sleeved white sweater. Which earned her an immediate skeptical look.

"What?"

"Nothing, they look . . . nice."

"You don't like the pants?"

"No, I like them it's just...don't you think you've tried on enough pants?"

Buffy, rested her hands on her hips and gave her a mother a slightly annoyed look.

"You really are pushing this leg thing aren't you?"

"Is it a crime for wanting my daughter to look nice?"

"Yes," she said, and gave into her mother's raised eyebrows. "All right, fine, I guess it wouldn't kill me to feel the breeze."

"Thank you," she smiled triumphantly.

Walking back into the dressing room, Buffy closed the door behind her and looked at the pile of clothes she had tried on, rumpled in the corner. Pants, long sleeved shirts and sweaters. And then looked up to all the skirts, dresses, and flirty, pretty tops that were still on their hangers and untouched. Rolling her eyes and not thinking much of it, Buffy reached for the hem of her sweater, ready to pull it off when she caught her reflection in the mirror, for the very first time since entering the dressing room, and she froze. With her hands right where they were, she moved closer to glass. Was that really her? Buffy studied every inch of her figure. Her thinner, nearly hidden figure. Maybe that's why she never noticed it. She always kept herself hidden underneath layers of coats, sweaters, cloaks and clothes that were almost a size too big. Not to mention she had been neglecting mirrors.

And then her face. Completely bare of any makeup. Now that she thought about it, the last time she picked up a lipstick was over six months ago. She had been cosmetic free since then. And then there was her hair. Her shoulder length and limp hair. No curl. No flip. Nothing. And not that she thought she looked horrible, but it just wasn't like her. None of this was. Not even when she was a kid did Buffy neglect her appearance. What happened? Was this all because of her recent Cry-Baby Buffy status? Had she really changed so much?

"Mom?"

"Yes, honey?" Joyce asked, flipping through one of the offered magazines that used to be on a nearby table.

"Do you . . . do you think I've changed?"

So much for the magazine. Putting the glossy pages aside, Joyce stood up and walked closer to the white doors. She saw this coming in a way. After all it was pretty hard not to notice. Hence the leg baring items she kept trying push onto her daughter.

"Why do you ask?"

"I don't know . . . I just, I don't feel like me. Or think that I look like me--the old me, I mean," she dejectedly confessed. "It's like everything that's been going on has changed me. Somehow."

"Buffy," she said tentatively. "After everything you've been through, did you really expect to say the same?"

"No, not the same," she sighed. "But I didn't really expect to change as much as I have either."

Buffy, looked at herself in the mirror. Critically eyeing her reflection from head to foot. It just didn't look right. Her double looked all wrong. This wasn't Buffy Summers. This was someone else. Someone she didn't like.

"Things have happened to you, Buffy. Things that no matter how much I wished, can't be erased. You've been through so much and . . . as rough as this may sound, you can't go back to the exact way you were. You're different now, but that's not a bad thing. In a lot of ways, parts of the old you have changed for the better. But that doesn't mean you have to completely lose the old you either," she said, in that comforting voice of hers. Was she explaining this right? Merlin, she really hoped she was. Because if she did, then hopefully that would bring her brave and sunny little girl back. A part of Buffy that Joyce hadn't seen in some time. "Buffy, you can still be you no matter what you've been through or how much you think you've changed. It's all about finding that middle ground. The one where you can keep the old Buffy while embracing the new one. You've always been a strong girl. You've never let anything or anyone get the best of you. You just . . . I guess you just have to find that part of yourself again."

_Your friends are always going on about you being all brave and not taking anybody's crap_.

That was it, wasn't it? They did this to her. Somewhat. Honestly, she was the one that allowed it. After Angel died, she was in mourning, and in no mood to care about anything. Which was acceptable. But when she returned to school, with the spitefulness and the bitterness of her classmates, it only made her feel worse. She stopped caring. And she let everyone make her believe she didn't matter. Well, screw that!

_You've always been a strong girl. You've never let anything or anyone get the best of you._

_Forget about all those brats that can't deal with their childhood trauma. Life moves on and so should they. Hell, so should you!_

Hell, yeah she should!

"Buffy?" Joyce asked, knocking on the door. Her daughter hadn't said anything in a while. Why was she so quiet? And what was all that noise?

Buffy, rapidly, and noisily, changed into the clothes she had come in with. And rifling through the mess in the corner, she only picked up the pants, shirts and sweaters _she_ wanted.

"Buffy? Is everything okay?"

_You can't go back to the exact way you were . . . but that doesn't mean you have to completely lose the old you either . . . you can still be you no matter what you've been through or how much you think you've changed._

Standing straight up, Buffy breezed through the tops, skirts and dresses and chose the ones _she_ liked best. The ones original Buffy would've worn. The confident Buffy. Well, guess who's back.

"Buf--"

First Faith and now her mom. All she needed was a little push. A wake up call, and the one-eighty was inevitable. Took her long enough.

The door suddenly swung open and there stood Buffy Summers. Arms loaded with clothes in every color in existence. Her face glowing and her posture stick straight.

"Come on," she said, and moved ahead with determination.

"Where are we going?" Joyce asked, confused and somewhat delighted at this turn of events.

_It's all about finding that middle ground. The one where you can keep the old Buffy while embracing the new one._

"Makeup counter."

Hours and hours and many, many, many bags later, the Summers women entered Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. One a giddy of smiles and the other a frown of exhaustion.

"What did you two do, buy the entire store?" asked Remus.

"No, not the whole store," Buffy replied. "We ignored the men's department."

"Thank goodness," Joyce mumbled, resting her back against a nearby wall.

"I think you broke her," he said to Buffy.

"Or at least her bank account," she grinned cheerily.

Taking the bags from her mother, Buffy added them to her many and rushed up the stairs. Thank goodness for slayer strength. This had to be exactly what it was used for or else why were slayers always girls.

"She seems happy," he commented after Buffy was out of sight.

"And I'm glad for it," Joyce said, straightening herself up. "Couldn't be happier."

"Is that sarcasm?"

"No, it's exhaustion."

Remus chuckled, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Leading her out of the entry way and down to the kitchen.

"How about a very still chair and a hot cup of tea?"

"At this point I'd rather have a sedative."

Buffy unbagged, unwrapped, unfolded every clothing item she had purchased. Leaving her bed with a small mountain of smashed fabric. Quickly moving to her trunk, she unpacked her uniform and placed it on top of the lid, those definitely had to be taken in, and soon after went to her wardrobe. Going through every drawer and hung item. Leaving what she wanted and pulling out all the unwanted. And that's when time went in a flash of cotton, satin, silk and jean. And if it weren't for Ginny bringing her dinner up to her, Buffy probably would've missed the entire meal. Not like she would've noticed.

"Can I have this, too?" Ginny asked, placing the emerald green top against her.

"Sure," Buffy shrugged, going back to the mountain on her bed that was thankfully lowering into a mole hill. "It'll look great with your hair."

Smiling, Ginny added the garment to her small growing pile of clothes.

"Are you sure you don't mind me taking these?"

"Nah, I was gonna give 'em away anyway. At least now I know they're going to a good home."

As Buffy dove into her new found wardrobe again, Ginny moved over to the small vanity by the window and began to fiddle with the brand-new objects sitting there. The ones she had seen Buffy put down when she first came in. The cases and tubes of color and shine. The nonmagical items that seemed to work wonders on girls.

"Do you know how to use all of these?" she asked, curiously. Playing with the bristles of a powder brush.

"Course I do. Took some practice but I got all the painting down to a science."

"Is it hard?"

"Not really."

"How come you're not wearing any now?"

A secretive smile appeared on Buffy's lips. "I've got my reasons."

"Are those the same reasons why your clothes have suddenly taken a different sense of direction?"

"Maybe."

Putting the brush down, Ginny leaned against the table and crossed her arms across her chest. A thoughtful look on her face as she studied the seemingly, light-hearted girl by the bed, who wasn't so seemingly light-hearted before.

"You seem . . . different."

"Maybe I am different," Buffy said, still tiding her mess of garments and not adding anything else to her mysterious statement.

Ginny couldn't help the knowing frown that pulled at her lips. "You're not going to tell me anything else are you?"

"Nope."

"Mean," she grumbled, and even if she was facing her back, Ginny could tell Buffy was smiling. "Well, will you at least teach me how to use this stuff?"

"Ginny." Turning around with something pink and silky in her hands, Buffy gave her an honest look. "You don't need makeup."

"You don't either, but that hasn't stopped you has it?"

"That's different."

"How?"

"Because . . . because I've come to realize that despite being born in the Magic World of the United Kingdom I'm really a California girl at heart," she said proudly. "The land of color, labels and airbrushed magazine covers."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

A flash clip of Buffy's life in Los Angels and Sunnydale played in her mind, and it didn't take a genius to know that those two places were very different from the one she had grown up in. Hemery High changed her. It wasn't enough just being popular. You had to be beautiful and popular. And it took a very nice sales lady and the makeup counter at Neiman's to show her the way. But as it turned out, Buffy was a born fashionista. And if it weren't for her move to a muggle city and a school where trendy was a way of life she would've never found that out. Thank goodness she found her priorities in time.

"Honestly, it has to do with a lot."

* * *

Nothing much really changed. Buffy still didn't wear makeup and her comfy clothes, the ones she had kept, were the ones she wore. She was on vacation here. Completely entitled to be maintenance free. But apparently people had noticed some kind of so-called change in her. She seemed . . . different, was all they could say. And it was kinda fun to keep them guessing on why.

Then there was the Harry situation which was moving at turtle speed. He smiled, she smiled, they said hello and exchanged a few words once in a while but didn't share more than that. How could they? Harry was off with either Ron and Hermione, who's behavior towards her wasn't as cold as before but still pretty chilly, or he was with Sirius and Remus. Meanwhile, Buffy was with Ginny and the Twins, or her mother, Sirius, and Remus, and she even helped Mrs. Weasley with the cooking sometimes. Dicing counts as cooking right? Not to mention there was the business of cleaning the whole house, which kept everybody busy. Sheesh! Considering all that Buffy was surprised she and Harry had managed a simple hello in the first place.

And speaking of cleaning, there was one little thing that was nagging everybody at Grimmauld Place. Actually it was the absence of that thing that got them wondering. A little house-elf who had a habit of taking items they kept trying to throw out during their scrubbing, but had not done so lately. As a matter of fact that little house-elf had yet to be seen in quite some time. Which caused them to worry.

And one girl to grumble.

_Kreacher likes Buffy. Kreacher listens to Buffy._ Buffy was going to choke Sirius. Dusting off yet another cobweb, Buffy moved through the attic. The dusty, spider infected, moldy attic that was grating on her nerves. And she had woken up in such a good mood today, too. Well that was pot now wasn't it? Stupid, Sirius.

"Kreacher!"

Ugh! Stupid cobwebs! Did they really have to be so sticky?

"Kreach--"

"Mistress Buffy."

The delighted house-elf, well as delighted as Kreacher could be, suddenly appeared before a startled Buffy. Did they really have to pop in like that?

"Kreacher," she said, acknowledging him which delighted him even more.

"Did Mistress Buffy need Kreacher to do something for her?"

"Actually I do," she said in a friendly tone. "I need you to tell me where you've been. No one's seen you in a while and we were just wondering where you'd run off to."

Kreacher suddenly began to fiddle with the edge of his dirty cloth_. Don't tell anyone we're you've been, Kreacher. To honor the Black Family you must keep your mouth shut. No one must know. That's an order!_

"Kreacher has been up in the attic," his rough voice evenly drawled out. "Kreacher does not speak to mudbloods and half breeds. Filthy, vile traitors. Scum and ingrates of--"

"Okay," she stopped him. "I get it. People downstairs not for you. So, what, you've just been here this whole time?"

"Kreacher has."

He was covered in dust. And dirtier than usual. Guess he must be telling the truth then. And it's not like he could go anywhere anyway. Sirius had to verbally release him and as far as she knew that wasn't a possibility. Seeing as Kreacher knew too much about the Order to be set free. And even Sirius wasn't stupid enough to order him out.

"Listen, Kreacher, I need you to do something for me."

"Kreacher will do anything for Mistress Buffy," he happily said.

"If you ever decide to go downstairs sometime soon, which you should so by the way so they wouldn't send me up here again, I need you to treat me like everyone else okay," she requested. "Be mean and rude. Say bad things about me when I'm around. You know, be yourself."

"Kreacher will never treat Mistress Buffy that way," he said, appalled at the idea. "Mistress Buffy has been very good to Kreacher."

"I know," she smiled. "But can you just to do this for me, please? At least while everyone's here. For the rest of the holiday I need you to behave like you hate me. It's very, very important."

_During the summer we overheard Sirius and Remus say that Kreacher was only nice to Goldilocks. If Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny see him being nice to you they're going to figure out your part of the Order. And George and I like being the only ones who know that._ She bet they did. It was their fault to begin with. The Twins and their little Extendable Ears, but at least they warned her before Kreacher might've innocently given her away.

"Kreacher will not treat Mistress that way, Kreacher will treat Mistress the way she deserves."

He was a stubborn little thing wasn't he?

"Kreacher," she spoke gently, sweetly even. "I really need you to do this favor for me. It would really mean a lot. Please?"

Kreacher likes Buffy. Kreacher listens to Buffy. Kreacher was a sucker for Buffy.

"Kreacher will do as Mistress asked," he said, both delighted and upset by the request.

"Thank you," she smiled. "And I'll tell you what, if it makes it easier on you, you can just ignore me. Pretend I'm not even there."

He would have to, seeing as batty-old-grumpy Kreacher could not find one bad thing to say about the person who's treated him nicest since he could remember. But thankfully, and unknowingly to the Young Mistress, it would make his job of keeping his secret a lot easier.

Out! Out! Out! That's all Buffy could think about, and after thanking Kreacher for agreeing with her request she rushed out of the attic. She was not going to stay there any longer than she needed to. Walking all the way downstairs, Buffy dusted her clothes and shook her head, but she still felt unclean. Like the cobwebs were now permanently attached to her.

"Did you find him?" Sirius asked once she entered the kitchen.

"Yeah I found him," she said, dusting herself.

"Where was he?"

"In the attic, like you said."

Out damn'd spot! Out I say! Or dirt and cobwebs in this case. Jeez, was this stuff glued on?

They tried not to laugh, hard as it was, as they watched Buffy shake, brush and jump around as she tried to remove whatever she thought was on her. And unknowingly giving those sitting around the table an amusing show with their lunch.

"Ugh!" she cried. "Forget it! I'm just gonna take another shower." And she snapped right around, to head back up the basement stairs.

"Don't forget to wash behind your ears!" Sirius shouted, amidst his grin.

"Shut up!"

This time, the laughter didn't get held back.

Freshly washed. Freshly clothed. Freshly grime free, Buffy walked back into the kitchen to ease her rumbling stomach.

"Explain to me again why I had to be the one to visit the Land of the Spiders?"

"Because I love tormenting you," Sirius smiled.

"You're nothing but a bitter old man aren't you?" she asked through narrowed her eyes and sat in her usual seat beside Remus.

"Hey!" Sirius protested firmly. "I am not old."

Buffy rolled her eyes as she reached over and grabbed whatever food was left on the table.

"Did Kreacher tell you where he was?" Remus asked.

"No, cause that would actually entail him speaking to me," she replied, filling her plate. "He was up there, in a corner, ranting to himself. Don't know about what, and don't actually care."

"He was probably sulking because my mother hasn't yelled at him in the past few days."

"Well, whatever it was," said Buffy, piling even more food. "At least now we know he hasn't left the house. Cause if he did find a way I very much doubt he would've come back."

The food on Buffy's plate looked very much like the clothes she had piled onto her bed when she had come back from her shopping trip; a small mountain. And everyone around her was staring at it with wide eyes.

"What?" she asked, noticing their looks.

"You're not really going to eat all that are you?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah, even Ron doesn't eat that much," Fred commented.

"Hey!"

"I just spent five minutes in a dusty, moldy, sticky attic with a house-elf who makes Oscar the Grouch look like Mickey Mouse and I've all I had to show for it was another jump in the shower," she said, plunging her fork toward her plate. "Stress does not combine well with dehydration and starvation."

"Yeah," Sirius said, nodding to himself. "I am never sending you to that attic again."

* * *

Note: Thanks to everyone who's still sticking with this story. I know it takes me a while to update now, and I apologize for that, but to everyone who's still reading this story and waiting for updates, it really means a lot to me. I want to thank everyone who has reviewed so far. I LOVE them! And I hope that they'll keep coming!


	43. Chapter 43

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

The days were winding down. All holidays came and went without much news, except for a brand-new year. And the inhabitants of Grimmauld Place were enjoying the last remaining days together until the majority of them had to return to Hogwarts. Well, except for Buffy who decided to squeeze in one last day in Sunnydale before her holiday came to a close.

"Only in California can it be the middle of winter and still be past eighty degrees," she said, sunglasses over her eyes and lounging on a blanket.

The Scoobies had decided that today was too sunny to be spending their time in doors, so loading up a picnic basket they headed to the park to enjoy a hot day in early January.

"Bet you missed that," Xander commented beside her.

"And how."

"Xander, did you eat all the Doritos?" Willow asked, sifting through the basket.

"Yes, I did and I am not ashamed of it."

Rolling her eyes and letting out a sigh, Willow closed the lid and went back to her laying position. Irritated at being left with a craving.

"Some people fish. Some people read," Buffy said. "Xander eats."

"We all contribute in our own way."

"All you're contributing to is starvation," said Willow.

"But the point is, I contribute."

Rolling her eyes behind her dark sunglasses, Buffy lifted herself to a sitting position to face her original redheaded friend.

"So, where's Oz?" she asked. A note of gentleness in her voice.

A small, saddened sigh escaped Willow as she slowly mimicked her friend's position. "He's in LA. On a gig."

"How are things between you two?"

"Oh, you know, strained and awkward."

And that was an improvement.

"And you?"

"Guilty and apologetic," she stated, a humorless side smile appearing on her face, before it was swiped away completely. "I don't think he's ever going to forgive me."

"I thought he already had."

"He did, but you know, guilty conscience makes for an unsure me."

"Shakespeare?"

"Rosenberg."

Buffy offered her a sympathetic smile, and then offered another one to her other heartbroken friend.

"What about you?" she asked Xander, the same gentle, empathic tone in her voice. "Any luck with, Cordelia?"

"I've begged, I've groveled and I'm two phone calls away from a restraining order," he said, moving to a sitting position as well. "But you know what really bugs me?" He turned to Willow. "Okay, we kissed. It was a mistake. But I know that was positively the last time we were _ever_ gonna kiss."

"Darn tootin'!"

"And they burst in, rescuing us from Spike, without even knocking? I mean, this is really all their fault."

"Your logic does not resemble our Earth logic," Buffy said.

"Mine is much more advanced."

It had innocently started on the eve of a Homecoming Dance, where two old friends seemed to have really seen each other for the first time. And driven by hormones and what if's, shared a secret kiss that didn't stop at one, even if they were currently attached to someone else. And the can of worms eventually opened, when Spike had returned to Sunnydale, after getting his heartbroken by Drusilla once again, and had kidnaped Willow so she could perform a love spell, with Xander also being dragged along to the old factory for no reason other than he happened to be with Willow at the time. And when Spike left them so that he could retrieve the Wiccan's magical supplies, the two old friends let their hormones and the feeling of impending death take over them once again. And it was in mid kiss that Cordelia and Oz charged into the room ready to save the day. And have their hearts broken as a result. But Cordelia's pain didn't end there. As soon as the image of Xander and Willow completely registered in her mind, she snapped back around and within her first few steps, fell through the dilapidated stairs. And right through a rusty, metal rod, piercing her abdomen. Fortunately, the worse she got were a few stitches, and a few days off from school. But unfortunately, her broken heart wasn't so lucky. None of their hearts were.

"So," Buffy began, the word stretched out as if were trying to find something to say. Which she was. Hoping to find a topic for lighter conversation. "Where's, Faith?"

"AWOL," Xander replied.

"She kinda disappears on you guys, huh?"

"We try to include her in our fun," Willow said. "But most of the time she bails."

"She does seem like the loner type. But she's cool. At least that's what I got when I talked to her."

"That's right," said Xander, nodding his head slowly. "She told us she ran into you the last time you came to good old Sunnydale."

"She did?" A streak of panic bolted through her chest. "Wh-what else did she say?"

She shouldn't have spilled her heart so easily. She didn't even know if she could trust, Faith. What if she had told her friends? Buffy didn't want them to know her stress about Hogwarts. They would only worry, and she couldn't do that to them when they had so much stuff going on here.

"That's it."

A relieved and happy smile appeared on Buffy's face. That Faith was an all right girl.

"You know, Buff," Xander said, thoughtfully. "I've been wondering about something."  
"Okay," she drawled, confused when he didn't continue straight away.

"You said that your mom freaked when she found out you were the Slayer, but she's a witch right? You said she studied at that Hogmarts place."

"Hogwarts."

"And you said that you guys studied vampire slayers there," he continued seamlessly, brushing off the correction. "So, why did she have a major wig when you told her? I mean, wouldn't she have understood the deal?"

You would think so, wouldn't you? But like all things, it wasn't so cut and dry. The staff at Hogwarts brushed over the slayer during the students first year. The history, the skills, the 'In every generation . . . ' thing, but it was a one day lesson. Seeing as it coincided with vampires. A lot of the details were left out. Including the exact origin of how a slayer gains her sudden abilities. Which left one with too many questions. And added to Joyce Summers's worry. Because it wasn't just Buffy being chosen as the slayer that made her mother behave the way she did. It was everything that happened before that. It was Buffy's life in general.

"Some stuff happened during my second year," she started, her voice immediately becoming low. "Involving our current big bad."

"That Volleyball guy, right?"

"Yeah," she smiled at the name, but she wasn't going to correct him. Voldemort didn't deserve it. "He possessed . . . someone I knew. And made them do some . . . well, some pretty bad stuff. Mom kinda freaked when she heard. A lot of the parents did. That's why we left. She thought that if it could happen to that girl, it could happen to me. She didn't wanna risk it. So, when I told her, it brought all of that stuff back. Added to the short shelf life she knows we slayers have, and it scared her. That's why she went postal. That stuff combined with all that other stuff . . . she didn't know how to handle it."

They didn't need to know the truth. She didn't even like to think about it at all. The nightmares were enough for her.

"Guess your mom really had reasons to go crazy, huh," Xander stated, sympathetically.

"Yeah," she replied, a flash of memories appearing and disappearing in the blink of an eye. They were going to haunt her forever weren't they?

"So, what happened to the girl?" Willow asked, wondering about the girl Voldemort had possessed.

Buffy, stilled her thoughts. Trying to keep them at bay as she concentrated on Willow's question. But soon realized that there was no easy way to answer it. So, the only way to explain it . . .

"She's okay now."

. . . was with a lie.

"Voldemort, just left her alone?"

"There was a fight, and Harry, a guy from school, kinda saved the day. He stopped Voldemort before it got too bad, and she . . . she put it all behind her."

. . . and another lie.

"Wow, so you actually had a life before us," Xander said. "I don't how to feel about that."

"I'm going with jealous," said Willow.

The rest of the afternoon was nothing but smiles and laughter. Buffy didn't want to waste a single minute of California sun, and so she spent every minute outdoors until the sun grew brighter and hotter before it slowly began to settle. Casting a cool shadowy breeze over the town. And it was only then that they all decided to head back inside. Seeing as Buffy had somewhere to be.

"So, we'll meet you in a few hours?" Willow asked, rolling up her blanket.

"Yeah, I just need to see, Angel, before I go," Buffy said, her voice a little softer when she spoke Angel's name. "Will you guys try to find, Faith, for me? I kinda wanna see her before I leave."

"Sure thing, Buff," Xander nodded.

"Thanks."

Supplies packed, they went their separate ways. A tight feeling in Buffy's stomach in every step to the mansion. Her insides tingling in a mixture of emotions only Angel brought out in her.

The aged structure was quiet when she arrived. The only sound was the crackling of the fire. Slowly she made her way through. Finally finding him out in the atrium. And as her eyes came to rest on him, the world stopped.

He stood there shirtless, beautiful and in deep concentration. Unaware of her presence. His arms slowly lowering before him, and without pause, moved them gently to their next position. His movements fluid and beautiful in the exercise. His skin light with perspiration and glowing from his efforts. His arms moved slowly in many different directions, but it wasn't until he swept them to his right, did he finally see her standing there. A jolt of delight shooting within him.

"Buffy."

Her cheeks immediately pinked, and she briefly glanced to the floor from her embarrassment. Her eyes shifting to the side for a second when she looked up again.

"I didn't know you could do that," she said, a small smile on her face.

He smiled back. Pleased that he could still make her nervous. Reaching down, Angel picked up his dark shirt from the floor and covered himself up.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"I'm better," he said, walking back inside. Buffy wordlessly knowing to follow. "I can sleep most nights now."

"That's good."

They settled into the couch near the fireplace. The heat circling them.

"How are you?" he asked, seriously concerned. The last time Buffy was here she seemed bothered. Even the time before that when she had saved him during Christmas. Her eyes weren't clear and bright then. They were clouded over by something she wouldn't say. Angel didn't like them that way.

"I'm good," she smiled. Honesty in every word.

He looked into her eyes, and he could see it. They were still slightly tinged with a shadow he knew would never go away, but they were bright again. Lighter.

"You'll be heading back to school soon, right?"

"Day after tomorrow."

"And you won't be coming back for a while," he said sadly, more to himself than to her.

"Not unless the world's ending," she said, replying to his comment nonetheless. "So, I'm looking at next week."

He couldn't help but smile. There was never going to be anyone like her was there?

"I'm sure your friends are going to miss you."

"Yeah." Her voice taking an immediate saddened tone. "I'm really gonna miss them, too."

They grew silent. Their minds off with words they couldn't say. Feelings they couldn't express.

"Are you going to keep slaying when you got back?"

"That's the plan," she responded, relived at the distraction from her thoughts. "There really isn't much to do there. No Bronze or local hangout. But a girl's gotta keep busy, right."

"You're being careful?"

Buffy nodded. "Full of carefulness."

He nodded at her reply. His eyes on his hands as he picked at the couch.

"I worry about," he said, softly.

"I worry about you."

He felt that jolt of delight again.

"I'm getting better," he said, raising his eyes again. "The . . . memories are getting easier to bear."

He shouldn't have to bear at all, but there was nothing she could do. Angel needed to get through this the natural way. No matter how much Buffy wished to swish or potion the thoughts and nightmares out of his mind.

"Listen, Angel," she began, her voice now calmly serious. "I was hoping there was something you could do for me."

Anything.

"What is it?"

"I was hoping you could look after, Faith," she requested, expecting the look of surprise on his face. "It's just that Willow and Xander tell me that she doesn't really hang out with the gang much. And she hasn't been here that long, so I don't think she really has any friends yet. And the slayer gig's a rough deal. As lonely as it is. And I just . . . I don't want her to feel like she doesn't have anybody to turn to."

As tough as Faith tries to be, being the Chosen One takes its toll on a girl. Buffy, after all, knew that from experience. It's lonely and scary and doing it without any human contact or compassion can change a person in the worst way.

"Have you met her yet?"

"I bumped into her the last time I was here," she said. "We talked for a bit. And I . . . I like her. So, now I worry."

"She seems . . . lost, whenever I talk to her. Lonely," he confessed. Unknowingly causing a pluck of jealousy in Buffy at his words. Well, there was nothing she could do about that was there? Stupid curse.

"And that's where you come in," she said, forcing her voice to remain even. "Just, not too much, okay?"

"Okay," he smiled, pleasured at her brief glimpse of jealousy.

She stayed for another hour. Squeezing the last remaining drops of her Angel-time before she had to go back. Before she finally had to move on.

The school was deathly quiet. Bringing back memories of all her nights spent here. She really didn't have much of a life back then did she? Pushing through the library doors she felt like she had traveled back in time. To the first day she had stepped in this place. Back when she was a freshman and she believed she had escaped everything demon and magic. Which didn't last very long that day when she came face to face with . . .

"Hello, Buffy."

"Hey, Giles."

And she had to admit how hard it was not to slip into her own Britishness whenever she was round Giles back then. Which obviously didn't seem to matter now. Except she had been Californiad too much to revert back to it completely.

"How's, Angel?"

"He's good," she replied, moving to the only table in the room and setting down her back.

"Hey, Buffster!" Xander came barging in, with Willow beside him and Faith, who was strutting languidly after.

"Hey, B," the dark-haired slayer greeted. "Heard you were looking for me."

"Surprised they actually found you."

"I was in the neighborhood," Faith shrugged, hopping onto the table.

"So, what's with the sudden convergence, Buff?" Xander asked, plopping down into a chair.

"Did you change?" Willow asked suddenly, noticing that Buffy was wearing jeans and a sweater, and not to the short skirt and a strappy top she had worn this afternoon.

"What?" she asked, completely forgetting that she had at Angel's place, and looked down at her warm and toasty outfit. "Oh yeah, well, it may be warm here but it definitely ain't back home."

Willow and Xander looked at each other when she uttered those last two words. The meaning ringing heavy in their hearts.

"Back home?" the Wiccan asked, upset tones in her voice.

"Yeah, you know, that way," she said, pointing ahead of her. "I think."

Buffy noticed Willow and Xander's saddened expressions, and when she looked at Giles she could see his face had become crestfallen, too. While Faith just looked uncomfortable.

"What is it?"

"Well, we kind of thought . . . I mean, since your mom had a chance to cool off and everything . . . and she knows about you being the slayer . . . we thought that . . . "

They thought she was going to stay. And it surprised her in an upsetting way, because she would have to break their hopes.

"Guys, I'm not coming back," Buffy dropped gently. "I mean, I'll come to visit and all but I'm not gonna come back to stay."

"Why not?" Xander asked, looking like she had just kicked his puppy.

"Because, as much as I love you guys, I don't belong here," she replied. "I belong back at Hogwarts."

"Well, what about after?"

"I still got two more years before it becomes after, and even if . . . England's my home. Not here."

"B-but what about the slaying? A-and the Hellmouth?" Willow asked.

"You already have a slayer," she said, smiling at Faith. "A damn good slayer. I think it's safe to say that the Hellmouth is in pretty good hands."

If Faith was uncomfortable before, she was on a whole new level now. Compliments were not something she was used to, and all she could do was smile and blush, which was enough of a thank you for Buffy.

"What if I give you a shiny nickel?" Xander asked.

"No," she smiled.

"Two shiny nickels?"

"No."

"Okay, a quarter, but that's as high as I can go."

Buffy's smile remained with each of Xander's bribes, but that joyous smile turned saddened and apologetic quickly.

"You know I can't stay," she eased out. "But I'll promise I'll visit as much as I can."

There was no way to change her mind. They knew that. Damn it. But at least they knew they gave it their all. And they understood. Buffy's life doesn't belong here. It belongs back in Giles-Land. Which is Buffy-Land now too, wasn't it.

"We're really gonna miss you, Buffy," Willow sniffled a little, walking to her friend and enveloping her in a hug.

"Just won't be the same without you," Xander said, joining them.

"I'm really gonna miss you guys, too."

They held each for a second longer and regretfully began to pull apart.

"It's like an episode of Full House in here," Faith commented. "Are you guys all about the hugging?"

"I am," Xander said unabashedly.

"It's the only time he can touch a girl without her screaming," Buffy said.

"We all have our methods."

Moving a very short ways to the table, Buffy opened up the backpack she had brought with her. Looking through the endless amount of space, thank you Remus, she finally found everything she was looking for and pulled out four individually medium sized gift bags.

"First you're a witch, now you're Mary Poppins?" Xander said.

"You know I could just not give you your present."

"I'll be good."

Each bag was handed to each person. Willow and Xander giddy at their present, Faith once again uncomfortable at the show of kindness and Giles was . . . Giles.

"Not that I'm not grateful here, cause I am but I thought you already gave us our Christmas presents?" Willow asked.

"I did, but these are nothing big, just some fun stuff I thought you might like."

They all delved into their bags and their eyes widened with surprise at the objects they found.

"Candy!" Xander cheered.

"Not just any ordinary candy. Wizarding candy," she said, and then her voice turned serious in her warning. "So, be careful."  
"Why would we have to be careful?"

"Acid Pops?" Willows asked, lifting up the sweet.

"That's why. Those suckers literally burn a hole in your tongue," she said, and couldn't help the grin at their frightened looks, before she quickly explained. "It's only a spell. Don't worry. It'll heal over after."

"Wicked," Faith grinned, and searched for more candy.

"Drooble's Best Blowing Gum?"

"Creates blue bubbles that won't pop for days."

"Fizzing Whizzbees?"

"Makes you levitate."

"Ton-Tongue Toffee?"

"Makes your tongue grow ten times its normal size."

"Ice Mice?"

"You hear chatters and squeaks, but no real mice."

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans?"

"They mean that literally."

"Chocolate Fro--"

Xander didn't have time to finish his question because as soon as he unwrapped the curious little box something jumped out.

"Not real frogs," Buffy said, smiling again at the horrified looks on her friend's faces. "They have a spell on them that makes 'em jump like that. But they're just chocolate."

Buffy grabbed the frog, which landed on the table, and took a bite out of it as an example. Which was slightly green-face worthy when you originally thought it was a chocolate-covered frog. And you saw it jump just a minute ago.

"See," she said, showing the still frog which really was just chocolate through and through.

"Freaky," Xander shuddered, but still took the candy from Buffy and ate the chocolate nonetheless.

Buffy had an abundance of sweets back home. It was only right to share. And if she didn't, it was worth it to see her friends amazed faces at the many treats the Wizarding World had to offer. And it was way easier to come by for than it was for them.

"Mars bars!" Giles exclaimed suddenly, ecstatically too. "Jelly Tots! WHAM bars! Fruit Salads! Oh, these are my favorite."

"What kind of crazy wizard candy did you give him?" Xander asked.

"The normal British kind," she said. "Although some of those weren't so easy to come by."

"Did you sell your soul?"

"Only half. I got a deal."

The gang all went back to enjoying their candy that wasn't normal candy. Buffy's joy growing at their wonderment and little bit of happiness she could give them.

"Thank you, Buffy," Giles said, arriving before her with an unwrapped Wispa bar in his hand.

"You're welcome," she smiled in return.

He swallowed his small mouthful, and suddenly became very serious. The smile gone from his face, and he had that look he usually got when the world was coming to an end.

"Buffy, there's, er, there's something that I need to talk you about," he said seriously. "In private."

She would've demanded right then there what it was, there was no reason to keep it from her friends, but the look on his face stopped her. Looking to the trio briefly, she noticed they were still being entertained by the many treats she had given them.

"Okay."

Quietly they made their way into the office, and closed the door behind them. If Willow, Xander and Faith noticed, they didn't come a'knockin'.

His face hadn't relaxed, and it worried her even more. His quiet making her on edge.

"Giles, what is it?"

He wasn't sure how to word it. To make it sound as serious as it really was. He would just have to tell her the truth and hopefully she would understand.

"I, uh, I have been getting reports from my sources at the Council recently, and they have mentioned something that I feel you should know," he said. "It seems that the Ministry and the Council have been conversing with each other recently. Travers and Fudge in particular, and often. And according to my sources, it seems that your name has been mentioned on more than one occasion."

A cold chill ran down her spine. "Why?" she demanded.

"Well, from, er, f-from what I've been told, f-from what my sources have heard, it seems that someone has been extremely interested in your whereabouts after you've left Hogwarts, and of your return," he said, gravely. "And that same someone, has also been requesting more information on you."

Umbridge.

"I'm not quite sure what that means. If it means anything at all, which I'm sure it doesn't. But I thought it best that you should know," he said, his voice trying to be comforting. But it didn't help, he could see it on her face.

Buffy's eyes felt hot. Her hands turning to fists as her jaw clenched. That old toad was sticking her stubby little nose into her personal life. Snooping into her past where she didn't belong.

Ever since that night after detention, Buffy knew that Umbridge's ribbety little wheels had been turning. Ideas springing into her head that Buffy would rather prefer didn't. But Umbridge was taking it too far. The Ministry? The Council? She crossed a line.

This wasn't good. Giles knew that, but there wasn't anything he could do to stop it. Buffy was out of his reach now. Halfway across the world. All he could do now was worry from afar. But another worry was reserved for the look in her eyes. The look she would get when her mind was set, and her primal instincts were at their heights.

"Be careful, Buffy," he said, in both concern and warning, because that 'someone' who had been prying into Buffy's life didn't know what kind of person they were pushing.

* * *

Note: Update! Yay! At least I hope it's a yay! :s I just wanted to thank the person who nominated me for the CoA for this story. And also for everyone else, if they're reading this story, for the other nominations. I love you guys! And a big, big, big thank you for those who voted for this story. I'm in the top five in unfinished crossover! How awesome is that! You guys are just . . . you're just . . . you're awesome. No other word for it.

A side note, I mentioned Buffy came to Sunnydale as a freshman here, because she was fourteen when she arrived, as per my story details. So, the Sunnydale gang is in their junior year. So, hopefully there isn't a great deal of confusion :s


	44. Chapter 44

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

_Be careful, Buffy._ That was never going to stop was it? Trudging up the stairs, Buffy headed to her mother's room. She would need to know she was back or else, and that 'else' was always a biggie, and then Buffy would finally be able to plop down to her bed and sleep the rest of her vacation away. This whole time difference deal was so not good for her energy levels. Tiredly, Buffy grabbed the knob to her mother's room and pushed the door open.

She really should've knocked first.

"Oh! OH! Scarred for life! Scarred for life!"

There they were. Joyce Summers and Sirius Black locking lips like there was not tomorrow.

"Buffy!" They both exclaimed, quickly pulling apart.

"Wha . . . I-I-I . . . "

Words. She needed words here. Of course being mentally scarred wasn't helping matters.

"Buffy," Sirius said gently, walking towards her like she were a wounded animal that would attack without a moments notice.

Her mind sprang to life again and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"You!" she said accusingly, pointing her finger toward him for good measure. "You . . . shush!"

And they both watched as Buffy pivoted right back around and hastily went back down the stairs. Uh-oh.

" . . . can't trust anybody, always gotta keep an eye out . . . " Buffy huffed all the way down, loudly and irritatingly. Giving Mrs. Black the evil eye when the ratty old curtains flew open and the old woman was ready to shout, but as soon as she caught sight of the girl the curtains closed again without a sound. " . . . leave 'em alone and this is what happens, just gone for a day, a day!"

"What are you going on about?" Remus asked.

That seemed to have snapped her right out of her rumblings, and Buffy looked up surprised and angry all rolled into one. How did she get into the dining room?

"Buffy!"

"Buffy!"

Sirius and Joyce came barging in. Their faces flushed and urgency in their voices.

"You two," Buffy said, her voice tight, snapping around to face them. "How . . . how . . . "

"What's going on?" Harry asked.

Everyone had gathered from different parts of the house to the little room as soon as they heard Buffy's angry stomps, which had been very loud indeed.

"So, I'm guessing she knows now?" Remus asked, smugly.

"Knows what?" Ginny asked.

Sirius and Joyce glared at the werewolf. He was definitely not helping the situation.

"You shush," Joyce said to the grinning Remus.

"Knows what?" Harry echoed.

With her hands firmly placed on her hips, Buffy turned to him.

"Your godfather and my mother . . . were . . . they were . . . " The words seemed to be stuck in her throat as the disturbing picture couldn't get out of her mind. "I can't even say it."

"They were what?" The Twins asked wiggling their eyebrows suggestively.

"Ew," she said, strongly.

"It was nothing like that," Sirius said. "Buffy just happened to walk in on us while we were--"

"Kissing!" she interrupted. "They were kissing!"

"I thought you couldn't say it," Remus teased, enjoying this entirely too much.

"Shush!" Buffy ordered.

"They were what?" Harry asked, shocked, and turned to look at Sirius and Joyce who were turning beet red.

"Alright, Sirius!"

"Good job, mate!"

The Twins cheered. But as soon as they saw Buffy's face they immediately quieted down.

"So, you two . . . you're . . . you know . . . " Harry tried to ask with flamed cheeks.

"I think this is a matter we should be discussing, with you and Buffy, in private," Joyce said. "And not everyone else."

"I agree," Buffy nodded. "Everybody out."

"What?" Fred and George asked. "But, we--"

"Out!"

But they were going to miss all the fun. Pouting, they all began to exit the room. As slowly as they could.

"Ah, nice try," Buffy said, pulling Sirius back from the line when he tried to sneak away.

"Why does Harry get to stay?" Fred asked on his way out.

"Because his Sirius's godson," Joyce replied, and that was that.

Door closed and there they were. Godfather and godson. Mother and daughter. And who would've guessed it would've been the adults who had some explaining to do.

"Okay, spill," Buffy said, arms crossed.

"Spill what?" Sirius asked, nervously joking to ease his tension.

"Not helping," she told him, and that pretty shut down any joking mood he felt.

"What, er, what do you want to know?" Joyce asked, folding her hands over and over.

"Well, I don't think Harry and I want to be mentally traumatized for the rest of our lives," Buffy replied, not wanting any more disturbing images in her mind than she already had, "so, why don't you just stick to the facts and avoid anything gross."

"Okay," her mother said, her cheeks red at the mention of 'anything gross'. "Anything specific in mind? Harry?"

Joyce could see him shrinking away beside her daughter. Uneasiness on his face and uncomfortableness in his stance. It was obvious as to why and the least she could do was give him a little nudge.

Harry wasn't so sure he should be here. Sirius was his godfather sure, but this felt like a family-only situation and Harry didn't feel like he fit. Buffy was Joyce's daughter, she had every right to an explanation, but Harry wasn't blood related to any one of them. He should've left when the others did. But he could see Joyce trying to fit him in as much as she could, and a heartstring plucked at her effort. The least he could do is repay her kindness. Besides, he didn't think he could handle disappointing her. No matter how small that disappointment would be.

"O-okay," he stuttered, smiling nervously. "How, uh, how long have you two been . . . together, I guess is the word."

"Well, we've been seeing each other for, I guess . . . three months?" Joyce said, then turned to Sirius for confirmation.

"I'm so glad you're so sure," he sarcastically said. "But yes, three months."

"You know just because I'm the female doesn't mean I have to remember all the details," she retorted to his comment.

"Actually it does," he replied.

Joyce felt her blood begin to rise. "You chauvinistic--"

"Not in front of the children," he interrupted, smugly.

"Oh god," Buffy muttered, her stomach queasy. "This isn't foreplay is it?"

"What?!" they asked, turning to her in astonishment.

"I thought you couldn't stand each other," Buffy said, not really wanting an answer to her previous question.

"Said who?" her mother asked.

"Observation, mostly."

"What? The bickering?" Sirius asked.

"I would've gone with all out shouting, but sure why not."

"That's nothing, just . . . "

Sirius turned to Joyce and a secretive little smile appeared on their lips. And that was the unwanted answer right there.

Buffy made a disgusted sound in her throat. "Ugh, it is foreplay."

And Harry widened his eyes before shaking his head. "I really didn't need to know that," he mumbled.

"It's not foreplay," Joyce said, her face completely red now.

"Sure it is," Sirius grinned proudly.

They all turned to him with questioning looks, but that didn't diminish his unapologetic grin one tiny bit.

"So wrong," Buffy said to herself. "So very, very wrong."

Joyce gave Sirius a reproachful glance, before turning her attention back to the two teenagers.

"The point is, Sirius and I . . . are involved," she said, her voice calm and stern in only a mother can pull off. "And I know we should've told you, you deserved to know, but we just didn't know how to go about it. No one else knew, well except for Remus and Molly but that's only because they've been here with us, but other than that–well maybe Arthur but only because of Molly, and I think maybe some of the Order--"

"Mom," Buffy said. "Off track."

"Right," she nodded, correcting her train of thought. "Well, I guess, what I'm trying to say, is that we're sorry. You shouldn't've found out this way, and we know should've told you. Right from the beginning."

"But with your temper you can understand why we didn't," Sirius said to the slayer.

Buffy narrowed her eyes at him, and when she noticed that Harry had nodded a very small nod in agreement beside her, he was next to receive her heated glare. Which caused Harry to take one long step away from her.

"Why do I let you keep talking?" Joyce told Sirius.

"Because you couldn't stop him if you tried," Buffy said.

"Smart girl," Sirius said as he pointed to her.

"She has her moments," Harry commented. Did he just say that?

Joyce and Sirius smiled while Buffy glared once again. It came out of him so naturally. The mocking and teasing he'd seen being shared between Sirius, Joyce, Remus and Buffy so often, and had even envied, seemed unattainable to him. Like he would never be able to have that same kind of flow and easiness with them like Buffy did. But apparently all it took was just the right moment. He let his guard down and the teasing popped out of his mouth without his realizing it. And when he noticed that no one looked at him funny or insulted, well except for of course Buffy, he finally felt like his little puzzle piece was beginning to find its way into the picture.

"Boys with half a brain shouldn't throw stones," she retorted.

"Half a brain?!" he repeated, irked at her comment.

"And apparently hard of hearing."

"Better to have half a brain than to have no sense."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Fingers pointing, voices rising, arms waving and faces moving rapidly from one expression to another, they had to admit, it was pretty entertaining to watch, and Sirius couldn't help himself. Especially when the little scene reminded him of what Buffy had observed only minutes ago.

"Does that sound like bickering to you?" he asked loudly, to no one in particular.

That did it. The word 'bonehead' was stuck in Buffy's throat when Sirius's voice cut through their quarreling. And even with Harry's half a brain, and Buffy's lack of sense, they knew exactly what he was insinuating. Which caused them to take a small step away from each other, their eyes to move awkwardly every which way, and their cheeks to pink up.

"Was it something I said?" Sirius asked, making his voice sound as innocent as possible.

"You're an evil man, you do realize that?" Buffy asked.

"Yes."

Never will there be one like Sirius Black. They knew that for a fact.

"Anyway, back to the original topic," Joyce segued, wanting to clear the air and get this all over with. "Even if it's a little late, I wanted to be sure that both of you are okay with this. With Sirius and I."

Are they okay with it? It's not like they really had a choice did they, so their response was pretty much moot here wasn't it. But Sirius and Joyce weren't asking for their permission, they were asking for their blessing. So it was up to Buffy to be the dutiful daughter, and for Harry to be the dutiful godson. And it's not like they really had any qualms about it, expect, for you know, the ick factor, but that's what usually comes with parents, and parental figures, having romantic feelings towards anybody.

"I'm not gonna lie and say it isn't going to be a little weird. At least at first," Buffy said. "But if mom's happy, than I'm happy. Just no heavy petting when I'm around okay."

"What about my happiness?" Sirius asked.

"Moot," she stated quickly.

"Harry?" Joyce asked, ignoring the rapport.

"Well, as long as Sirius is happy, a-and you're both happy," he replied.

"See, he cares," Sirius said.

Buffy couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Oh . . . poo," she said, the only word that seemed to spring to mind.

"Don't poo me," he said, sounding offended.

"I can poo you if I want."

"Well . . . poo to you, too."

"You can't poo me, I pooed you first."

And so it went on. Joyce and Harry looked at each other, confirming that they each had a witness. A witness to the fact that this conversation, where poo was the actual topic, was actually going on.

* * *

"Dumbledore wants you to stop having those dreams about Voldemort," said Hermione, reaching for another roll. "Well, you won't be sorry not to have them anymore, will you?"

"But extra lessons with Snape?" said Ron, sounding aghast. "I'd rather have the nightmares!"

So would Harry. But it's not like he had a choice in the matter. He didn't really have much choice in anything these days.

Occlumency: The magical Defense of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one. So, Snape had explained. And lucky Harry Potter was going to be receiving private lessons of Occlumency from Snape himself. Fun.

The sour-faced Professor had come to Grimmauld Place to reveal the joyful news himself earlier that day. And when Harry made his way down to the kitchen where Snape had been waiting, the sight that greeted him once he opened the door was not one he had expected to see . . .

_Sirius was sitting near the long kitchen table, his eyes intent on the two other people in the room. His face frowning and his eyes sparkling with restrained anger. His gaze unwavering from the murmured conversation going on near him. A conversation between Professor Snape and Buffy Summers._

_Their voices were hushed, but angry. Buffy's arms were firmly placed across her chest and her face was harder than Harry had ever seen it. Snape held himself in that cold distant manner he always seemed to possess, and though his face remained blank, his eyes were shining with fury._

" _. . . understand, that it's so simple."_

"_Nothing about this is simple, Ms. Summers. I am very well aware of that fact."_

"_If you were so aware you wouldn't be asking this."_

"_And if you didn't possess the mind of a child, you would be able to understand why I must."_

"_It's not out of must, Professor, it's out of personal curiosity. And not until Dumbledore--"_

"_Harry," Sirius announced suddenly, and it served its purpose._

_All three turned to look at Harry, who had become very uncomfortable at the quick silence. The tension still heavy in the room, despite the slight distraction he had provided._

_Buffy's face still held that hard look and her arms were still in place as she looked away from him. Her posture screaming rage and aggravation as she glanced at Sirius briefly and then at Professor Snape before marching out of the room without a single word to anybody._

_Harry watched her go, his mind a race of curiosity. He had never seen her look so angry before. And he's been at the receiving end of her anger enough times to know._

Harry sighed as he poked the food on his plate, remembering the scene. It was bad from the very moment he pushed that kitchen door open. After Buffy had gone, and Harry was told of his new schedule of Occlumency lessons once a week, Snape and Sirius had gotten into an argument. As hostile enemies tend to do. They ridiculed and yelled, and had come close to blowing the other one out of existence. And if it hadn't been for Mr. Weasley and the Weasley clan, plus Hermione, coming into the kitchen to announce Mr. Weasley's recovery and better health, they would have.

Now they were all gathered in the kitchen the day before the children were to return to school. And the night's meal should have been a cheerful one, with Mr. Weasley back amongst them, and Snape very far away from the house. Harry could tell Sirius was trying to make it so, yet when his godfather was not forcing himself to laugh loudly at Fred and George's jokes or offering everyone more food, his face fell back into a moody, brooding expression. One in which even Joyce was unable to smooth over. And Buffy herself was in no better state. She smiled politely whenever the Twins tried to make her laugh. Only spoke when spoken to. Picked at her food and only took bites when prodded. Her mind was focused somewhere else. With the topic that had caused the argument with Snape most likely. It didn't sit well with Harry. For some reason he didn't like to see her bothered. But as much as that plucked a string, seeing Sirius in a foul mood strummed the whole instrument.

Harry was separated from him by Mundungus and Mad-Eye, who had dropped in to offer Mr. Weasley their congratulations. He wanted to talk to Sirius, to tell him he shouldn't listen to a word Snape said, that Snape was goading him deliberately and that the rest of them didn't think Sirius was a coward for doing as Dumbledore told him and remaining in Grimmauld Place. But he had no opportunity to do so, and, eyeing the ugly look on Sirius's face, Harry wondered occasionally whether he would have dared to mention it even if he had the chance.

* * *

The holidays were over. No more sleeping in late. No more lying around with having nothing to do. After today it was back to too much homework, headaches, teachers, and . . . ugh! Umbridge.

Everyone had gathered in the kitchen that morning for one final meal together. Buffy seemed to have brightened overnight and even Sirius, who still looked a bit sour from the day before, was in a better mood. There was no doubt in Harry's mind that Joyce had something to do with that. They were all saying their goodbyes, the Weasley's taking a little longer than the rest of them, and Harry was pushing his brain for something to say to his godfather. Because Harry had a bad feeling about this parting; he didn't know when they would see each other again and he felt it was incumbent upon him to say something to Sirius to stop him from doing anything stupid. Harry was worried that Snape's accusation of cowardice had stung Sirius so badly he might even now be planning some foolhardy trip beyond Grimmauld Place. Before he could think of what to say, however, Sirius had beckoned him to his side.

"I want you to take this," he said quietly, thrusting a badly wrapped package roughly the size of a paperback book into Harry's hands.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"A way of letting me know if Snape's giving you a hard time. No, don't open it in here!" said Sirius, with a wary look at Mrs. Weasley, who was trying to persuade the twins to wear hand knitted mittens. "I doubt Molly would approve - but I want you to use it if you need me, all right?"

"Okay," said Harry, stowing the package away in the inside pocket of his jacket, but he knew he would never use whatever it was. Harry would never lure Sirius from his place of safety, no matter how badly Snape might treat him in their forthcoming Occlumency classes.

"What are you two whispering about over here?" Buffy asked, strolling towards them.

"Just a little man to man conversation," Sirius replied.

"Too easy," she shook her head.

"Ready to go?" Joyce asked, coming to stand beside Buffy, along with Remus.

"Actually, Harry," said Sirius, turning to the aforementioned. "I need to speak with this lot in private if you don't mind."

"Oh, uh, no, of course not," said the dutiful godson, even if that little tinge of envy pinched again. But this time it was definitely very little.

"So, what did I do now?" Buffy asked, once Harry had left.

"What makes you think you did anything?"

"Teenage mind-set."

"Right," he nodded. "Well, even if I'm pretty sure you did do something wrong, I actually wanted to ask you about something that's been bothering me."

"Okay."

"How in Merlin's name did you get Kreature to be so nice to you?"

It was about time someone asked. Sure they wondered, but not one person had actually come straight out and asked her. And it wasn't like it was some sort of secret. It was quite simple actually.

"I gave him a cookie."

. . . huh?

"A cookie?" Remus asked.

"Yeah, you know, one of those sweet, little, round, crumbly, things."

"Why would you give him a cookie?" inquired Sirius.

"Why not?" she shrugged.

"Do I really need to answer that?"

She didn't really expect any of it to make sense did she?

"He was up in my room one day, scouring for hidden treasure, and I had over indulged on portion size, so I offered him one," she said. "It looked like he was about to have a heart attack after I asked him. But then he took it, got all whimpery, and kept saying how no one's been good to him in such a long time, which was kind of sad to see really. I mean, it was just a cookie. It's not like I gave him a kidney. But, anyway, he's been nice to me since then."

"Honey. Vinegar," Joyce said, in that tone of voice that made it sound like this wasn't the first time she had stated it.

"Vinegar," Sirius said quickly, and Joyce rolled her eyes. What was the point, seriously.

"I'm surprised he took it," Remus muttered.

"Why wouldn't he? I fit into all of his morbid little standards. The only bad thing is my association with you," Buffy said to Sirius.

"Which should be reason enough for him."

"Should but isn't. You're just jealous cause he likes me better."

"Right, I'm green with envy," he sarcastically drawled.

"It's mighty big of you to admit that," she said, slapping his back. "Plus, I think it also has to do with the fact that you mother doesn't scream when I'm around and stops if I am."

"That's right," he nodded. "How did you manage that by the way?"

"Threatened to pull her portrait off the wall," she shrugged.

"You-you can do that?" Joyce asked, amazed at the strength slayers possessed.

"You can do that and you've been letting us suffer her screaming all this time?" Sirius asked before she answered, irritated at the unnecessary torture he had been subjected to.

"It was funny," she said innocently.

"She can't do that," Remus interjected.

"What?"

"Spoil my fun," she pouted. Of course Remus would know she couldn't. Sometimes he was too smart for his own good.

"It's called a Permanent Sticking Charm for a reason, even a slayer, no matter how strong, can't just pull it off the wall. It's impossible."

"Is that true?" Sirius asked.

"Yes," she answered reluctantly.

"But my mother believes you can?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Well, as Mr. Fun-Sucker here explained, I can't take it off the wall, but I was able to budge enough of it off to make it seem like I can."

"Mr. Fun-Sucker?" Remus asked.

"I found it fitting."

"How much did you budge?" asked Sirius.

"Bottom corner. Completely off. Definitely put some fear in her."

"That's . . . impressive," said Remus.

"Impressive, yes. Easy, no. I had to use every ounce of strength and then some. I think I got a hernia afterwards."

"As long as you got my mother thinking you can yank her off the wall, and keep her quiet, you can pull every muscle in your body."

"Thank you so much for your concern."

"Moot," he grinned.

"Yes you are," she said, smiling as Sirius' grin turned to a pout.

"All right, before this starts another round of moots and poos, Buffy, you should head on upstairs before they leave without you," Joyce said.

"Poo?" asked Remus.

"Don't ask."

"Or I could just stay here," Buffy casually said. "You know home schooling is so underrated these days, I'm sure you and--"

"Upstairs."

"You just don't want me to educate myself do you?"

"No, I don't, that's why I'm sending you to school."

"I knew it."

"Come on," Remus smiled, hands on Buffy's shoulders and pushing her to the door.

"Wait," she called, stopping immediately in her tracks. Remus's hands slipping off her as she turned around to face Sirius. "I love my mom. She's all I've got. And I'd do anything to protect her."

The sudden, out of the blue, statement of her words took them by surprise. Though the tone of her voice assured them that she was very serious, and sent a little prickle of fear down Sirius's spine.

"And if you hurt her . . . " Buffy grabbed a fork, a sterling silver fork, from the table and with one hand bunched it together to form a jagged little ball. Which she handed over to a stunned Sirius. "Got it?"

"Yeah," he squeaked, and cleared his throat to gain his normal voice. "I mean yes."

"Good," she smiled cheerily.

Buffy walked to her mother and hugged her one last time, gave Sirius a pat on the pack as she passed him, and then she and Remus went up the stairs before they were left behind.

Sirius stared at the little silver ball with saucer eyes. The lump in his throat perfectly matching the chill down his spine.

"Your daughter is absolutely terrifying."

The children, plus their escorts Remus and Tonks, who was disguised today as a tall, weedy woman with iron-grey hair, were gathered in the cold. The door of number twelve slammed shut behind them. When they reached the pavement, Harry looked round. Number twelve was shrinking rapidly as those on either side of it stretched sideways, squeezing it out of sight. One blink later, it had gone.

"Come on, the quicker we get on the bus the better," said Tonks, and Harry thought there was nervousness in the glance she threw around the square. Lupin flung out his right arm.

BANG.

A violently purple, triple-decker bus had appeared out of thin air in front of them, narrowly avoiding the nearest lamppost, which jumped backwards out of its way. A thin, pimply, jug-eared youth in a purple uniform leapt down on to the pavement and said,

"Welcome to the -"

"Yes, yes, we know, thank you," said Tonks swiftly. "On, on, get on -"

And she shoved Harry forwards towards the steps, past the conductor, who goggled at Harry as he passed. And didn't get much better as for the rest of the trip either.

"Looks like we'll have to split up," said Tonks briskly, looking around for empty chairs. And not seeing any that would put them all together. "Buffy, Fred, George and Ginny, if you just take those seats at the back . . . Remus can stay with you."

The quintet walked to the back of the bus, settling into their chairs as the rest of the group made their way up to the very top of the deck.

After paying the fare, the bus set off. Shaking and rumbling on its journey. And throwing the occupants out of their seats on every stop it made.

"Listen, it's 'Ogwarts stop after this," said Stan Shunpike, the conductor, brightly, and after letting off one of its passengers.

The bus kept moving, gathering speed, until-

BANG!

They were rolling through a snowy Hogsmeade. Harry caught a glimpse of the Hog's Head down its side street, the severed boar's head sign creaking in the wintry wind. Flecks of snow hit the large window at the front of the bus. At last they rolled to a halt outside the gates to Hogwarts. Lupin and Tonks helped them off the bus with their luggage, then got off to say goodbye. Harry glanced up at the three decks of the Knight Bus and saw all the passengers staring down at them, noses flat against the windows.

"You'll be safe once you're in the grounds," said Tonks, casting a careful eye around at the deserted road. "Have a good term, okay?"

"Look after yourselves," said Lupin, shaking hands all round and paused when he reached Harry. "And listen . . . " he lowered his voice while the rest of them exchanged last-minute goodbyes with Tonks, "Harry, I know you don't like Snape, but he is a superb Occlumens and we all - Sirius included - want you to learn to protect yourself, so work hard, all right?"

"Yeah, all right," said Harry heavily, looking up into Lupin's prematurely lined face. "See you, then."

Harry watched as he made his way over to Buffy, hugged her tightly and pulled away shortly as he said something to her. She nodded, hugged him one last time and made her way to Ginny. Not noticing the worried look she was receiving in her wake. And Harry could see from his stand point, that Remus was not the only one as Tonks too, looked at the little-blonde girl with a touch of concern in her expression.

Six of them struggled up the slippery drive towards the castle, dragging their trunks, while one was only pretending to stress over the weight of her luggage. Hermione was already talking about knitting a few elf hats before bedtime, and Fred and George were having a small snow fight with Buffy and Ginny. Harry glanced back when they reached the oaken front doors; the Knight Bus had already gone and he half-wished, given what was coming the following evening, that he was still on board.

* * *

Note: I'm sorry. I know it's been so very, very long since I updated. I wanted to, but the writing bug didn't bite and I didn't want to write something half heartedly. And I know that this fic is getting a little long, or very long, which was not my intention but it just seems to be getting away from me. But it is hard trying to combine two stories into one and not expect it to be epic, and I'm not going to sacrifice the story just to keep it short. :)

To all my reviewers and readers, I really want to thank you for your patience and putting up with blabbing at the end and for reading the story.


	45. Chapter 45

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

Achingly slow, the students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry rose their first morning after the holidays. The first school day of a brand-new year. And while all of the girls in the fifth year dormitory of the Gryffindor Tower had left for breakfast, one strayed behind just a little longer. And with very good and impressive reason.

Neville stood patiently in the common room. His bag slung over his shoulder, looking at his feet, waiting for a girl who seemed to be taking her sweet time. He had just shifted from one foot to another when he heard sudden gasps around him. Looking to his house mates, he found them wide eyed and open mouthed. Cormac McLaggen's lollipop had even fallen out of his gawked mouth and to the floor without his notice, or care it seems. Was Neville missing something again? Barely returned and already he was out of the loop. But what did poor, little Neville Longbottom really expect. Adjusting the shoulder strap of his bag, Neville looked toward the stairs. Where everyone else had been staring, and soon, his very own mouth dropped open in surprise.

Her silky hair was flipped in to frame her face and shining gold underneath the room lights. Her eyes, which were large and lovely before, were now a mesmerizing sparkle of green. A pair of shiny pink lips were set against sun-kissed skin. No longer covered under cloaks and coats, she showed her figure. The form fitting sweater and knee length skirt that made up her uniform fitting her like a glove. The white socks folded at the ankle, and fitted into black t-strap shoes revealed bare legs. No girl had ever looked so sweet and alluring at the same time. She seemed to glow from the inside out. A shining light that had entered the room.

"Hey, Neville," Buffy beamed.

And had spotlighted her way to the last person, a girl who looked the way Buffy did, would go. Or so the people in the common room believed, but what did they know.

Neville was currently stuck on blank, all he could do was stare as he tried to form words. Looking very much like a gaped fish. Was this really the same girl he had befriended just a few months ago? Girls weren't supposed to look like this. At least not the real, normal, everyday ones.

"You ready to go?" Buffy smiled, a genuine smile to show that she was really glad to see him. She waited for him to say something but all she got was a slow, unconnected nod. Still the same dear, sweet, one of a kind, Neville.

Neville stumbled slightly as he followed Buffy out of the room. His mind still trying to adjust to what he was seeing. And as soon as the portrait shut behind the two, did the excitable talk begin. Was that girl really Buffy Summers?

The stares didn't stop when the portrait closed. All the way down the long steps and towards the Great Hall were looks being pulled to them like magnets, and if Buffy noticed she didn't say anything. But all the heavy attention was uncomfortable to Neville. Who wasn't used to any looks beside exasperated ones.

"Th-they're all l-looking at you," he whispered.

She was beautiful. She always had been, he knew that, but now . . . what if she suddenly became _too_ beautiful to be his friend. What if this apparently new Buffy Summers decided that she couldn't hang around someone like him? What if she left him behind? She was the first honest friend he'd had and now–

"Maybe it's the hair," she said, shrugging her shoulders carelessly.

And the anxiousness escaped him like air out of a balloon.

That uncaring and simple attitude gave him relief. She maybe all shiny and new on the outside, but inside she was the same old Buffy. His same old Buffy, and Neville knew right then and there that he had nothing to worry about.

Buffy knew the kind of reactions she was receiving, she may be blonde but she wasn't oblivious. She knew more about her surroundings than anybody. Calculating every look and whisper without trying. It was in her slayer genes to be aware. But the many glances weren't a surprise. The Buffy that had left despised attention and would've blended to her surroundings as much as possible, and the Buffy that had returned didn't care. She wasn't aiming to be the center attention. She was aiming to be her confident self. To not let others step all over her or define who she was. She wasn't going to take anything lying down. And if that garnered more than enough attention that was their problem and definitely not hers.

But of course that didn't mean she didn't feel a little jittery as she stood in front of the large double doors that would represent her to rest of the school like a debutante making her transformational debut into society.

Buffy watched with anxious eyes as Neville pulled open the oak door. The noise seeping through the crack that kept getting wider with each nanosecond. Taking a deep breath and steeling her nerves, Buffy walked past the opening and into the Great Hall. And the noise slowly stopped.

The light in the vast room played against her features. The shining gold of her hair. The sparkle of her green eyes. The bronze of her skin. An invisible spotlight had once again found its way to Buffy Summers, and she glowed within a room of many. And every eye was on her.

Fred and George's forks clattered to the floor. Ron's spoon-full of cereal lay frozen in his mouth. Harry choked on his scrambled eggs. And Draco forgot the rest of his sentence.

The rest of the room didn't fare any better, even the professors were surprised. Neville had been right in his thoughts. Normal, everyday girls were not supposed to look like Buffy. But whoever said that Buffy was a normal, everyday girl.

Every eye followed her as she moved down the Gryffindor table to her seat, and now that Neville was no longer feeling insecure, he seemed to find the whole scene rather funny. Even biting his lip to keep from laughing. People seemed to be easily impressed these days.

Once Buffy had sat down did the quiet begin to rise to whispers. But they were ignored by the subject of conversation, as Neville and Buffy began eating their breakfasts like nothing had change.

"How . . . h-how . . . " Ginny struggled to say beside her.

"How what?" Buffy asked, pouring milk into her glass.

"How come you didn't teach me to do all that?" she asked, no longer amazed by the make-over, but wondering why Buffy wouldn't teach her do the same.

"Because you didn't need it."

"You're going to keep telling me that aren't you?" she pouted.

"Yep."

"You look so different," Susie said, awed.  
"It's the hair," Neville said from across the table, he and Buffy smiling at the very little inside joke.

"Good different or bad different?" Buffy asked.

"Definitely good different," she smiled.

"So does that mean I looked bad before?" Buffy teased.

"What? Oh, n-no, that's not – I-I mean, you were pretty before, and I was just--"

"I was kidding, Susie," she grinned.

"Hello!" Fred and George came greeting enthusiastically. Fred immediately squeezing himself in between Ginny and Buffy, causing Ginny to shout a 'hey!' when her brother forced her to move back. While George lowered himself behind the bench on Buffy's other side, not having the heart to push sweet, little Susie Lore back from her seat.

"I'm sorry but I don't think we've met."

"It would be a shame for us not to know each other wouldn't it?"

"A lovely young lady like you."

"Such strapping young men like ourselves."

"Should get acquainted."

"It's only right."

"Oh, jeez," Ginny mumbled, causing Buffy's smile to widen even further.

"I'm Gred and his Forge," Fred continued, ignoring Ginny.

"No, no you've got it backwards," said George.  
"Oh, right, he's Gred and I'm Forge."

Susie giggled, and Neville laughed a little himself. And taking that as a cue, the Twins felt the need to push on.

"If there is anything you need."

"Anything at all."

"A hand."

"A leg."

"An elbow."

"Don't hesitate to ask."

"Well, except for the heart."

"Why not the heart?" Buffy asked.

"Cause you already have it."  
"Oh god," she groaned, even when she couldn't help the smile and snort.

"Can you believe those two?" Hermione said, watching and listening to the exchange down the table.

Harry and Ron didn't respond as they too were watching, but their attention only seemed to be directed at one person in particular. Which irked Hermione, when she noticed their line of sight. It's like they've never seen a girl before. It was just a little makeup, better fitted clothes, and doing something to her hair. It wasn't that big of a deal.  
"Boys," she huffed.

The bell rang, signaling the end of breakfast. Everyone gathered their items and began to clear out. Some of the boys at the Gryffindor table, not so slyly, taking a little longer than the girls.

"May we escort you to your next class?" George said, both he and Fred holding out their hands.

"Sorry boys, but I already have an escort," she replied, stepping over the bench.

"Who?"

Buffy looked over to Neville as she placed her school-bag over her shoulder.

"Always the lucky one aren't you, Longbottom," said Fred, to which Neville couldn't help but blush just a little.

"See you guys later," Buffy bade, making her way to the door, and causing every male along the way to look as she passed.

Neville joined her seamlessly at the end of the table. The pair just making their way to the doors when Luna appeared beside Buffy.

"Hey, Luna," Buffy cheerfully greeted, as Neville smiled his hello.

"Hello," she replied in her dreamy voice.

"How was your vacation?" asked Buffy.

"It was very relaxing thank you, how was yours?"

"Relaxing here, too."

"That's good. And how was yours, Neville?"

"I-it was good."

Luna let her eyes linger on Neville for a moment, making the boy uncomfortably nervous, before she slowly moved them to Buffy.

"You're feeling better," she said, didn't ask.

"What?"

"I think that's wonderful," she continued on, despite Buffy's question. "I'm very glad for you. You should be happy. You can't always please everyone."

Uh…huh? Neville and Buffy looked at each other completely confused.

"Have a good day," Luna said, smiled and disappeared in the crowd.

That was strange even for Luna.

They watched her go and then shook their heads. Chocking the whole thing up to Lunaism, and headed to History of Magic as they shared their holiday loot and news. Hushed voices and looks trailed their path on every step once again. But they were promptly ignored because things had changed. Buffy didn't shy away from them, and Neville didn't pretend they weren't there to protect Buffy's feelings. Now, it was all just because they really and honestly didn't care.

"Hi."

As Buffy reached her desk, she turned to meet the owner of the sudden voice behind her.

"Hi," she smiled.

Who was none other than Theodore Nott.

"Good holiday?" he asked.

"Very. You?"

"Can't complain."

"Right, cause that would entitle more than one word and that would throw off your whole mystery persona," she teased.

Theodore smiled, a rarity for him. At least if he wasn't around Buffy.

"Just look at her," Pansy seethed. Her hawk eyes watching them.

Buffy was leaning against her desk facing Theodore, who was standing before her. Very closely. Very comfortably. Very irritating to more than one person.

"She's just throwing herself at him," she continued. "How shameless can she get? She comes back looking like she just stepped off the Hawaiian Islands and she--"

"Pansy. Quiet," Draco growled beside her. His eyes on the friendly little pair. A little too friendly in his opinion.

He ignored Pansy when she turned her hurt expression to him. His silver eyes narrowed at Theodore and Buffy. Since when did they become so chatty?

"I thought he didn't talk to anyone," Hermione said, the Trio sitting at the front of the class and also watching the two.

"I'm guessing Buffy doesn't qualify as just anyone," commented Ron.

"Guess not," Harry mumbled.

But did they have to stand so close? Harry's eyes hadn't moved since he saw Theodore make his way to Buffy's table. Surprised he didn't trip over something as he moved to his own seat without seeing the way. She was smiling too much, and Harry frowned. Theodore wasn't that funny.

Class was called to order by Professor Binns, and wayward students began to shuffle to their seats. Buffy and Theodore included. Much to the delight of two individuals.

The hour and a half that wouldn't end lived up to its name. By the time the bell had rung for break, more than half the class had taken a little morning nap. It's not like the professor was going to notice or complain. As everyone began filing out, Buffy and Neville stayed right where they were. Pulling out more books from their bags.

"Hey," Theodore said as he stopped by their desk.

"Hey," Buffy replied, while Neville kept his attention on his book.

"You're staying in here for break?"

Draco lingered by the doorway, with a very annoyed Pansy who refused to leave his side. His eyes unashamedly staring in Buffy and Theodore's direction as he tried to listen to their conversation.

Harry, Ron and Hermione passed by the two, their steps slower as they too were nosying in on the conversation. But a person can only go so slow without being detected, so all they caught were a few straying words.

" . . . back and get my studying done," said Buffy.

"You would need all the help you could get," he mocked.

"Hey, I'll have you know that my studying has greatly improved."

"Your welcome."

Your welcome? What did he mean your – crash and a'miss.

Harry, Ron and Hermione tore their eyes away from Buffy and Theodore when they realized they were just about to crash into Draco and Pansy, who were still in the doorway.

If looks could burn, Draco and Harry would be bursting into flames.

Neither one of them said a word. There was no mocking, insults or threats to leave the other one in the infirmary for days to come, because before they had a chance a tinkling burst of giggles brought them out of their stares.

Everyone turned to Buffy, her laughter still spilling gleefully out, with Theodore smiling widely beside her. Curiosity spun in all of them. Envy and anger burst into two. And suspicion and distrust burned brightly in one.

Ron scowled deeply. First Draco and now Theodore. Buffy was sure chummy with the people who belonged to the most conniving, underhanded house at Hogwarts. She was building her own case against her. Draco. Theodore. Umbridge. No matter how long she had been gone, or how much people claimed that she had changed, or what house the Sorting Hat had put her into now, Ron knew one thing for a fact.

Once a Slytherin. Always a Slytherin.

* * *

Harry spent most of the day dreading the evening. His morning double-Potions lesson did nothing to dispel his trepidation, as Snape was as unpleasant as ever. Theodore and Buffy seemed to talk every chance they got, and his mood was further lowered by the D.A. members constantly approaching him in the corridors between classes, asking hopefully if there would be a meeting that night.

"I'll let you know in the usual way when the next one is," Harry said over and over again, "but I can't do it tonight, I've got to go to - er - remedial Potions."

"You take remedial Potions!" asked Zacharias Smith superciliously, having cornered Harry in the Entrance Hall after lunch. "Good Lord, you must be terrible. Snape doesn't usually give extra lessons, does he?"

As Smith strode away in an annoyingly buoyant fashion, Ron glared after him.

"Shall I jinx him? I can still get him from here," he said, raising his wand and taking aim between Smith's shoulder blades.

"Forget it," said Harry dismally. "It's what everyone's going to think, isn't it? That I'm really stup --"

"Hi, Harry," said a voice behind him. He turned round and found Cho standing there.

"Oh," said Harry, his stomach taking a tiny leap. "Hi."

"We'll be in the library, Harry," said Hermione firmly as she seized Ron above the elbow and dragged him off towards the marble staircase.

"Had a good Christmas?" asked Cho.

"Yeah, not bad," said Harry.

"Mine was pretty quiet," said Cho. For some reason, looking rather embarrassed. "Erm . . . there's another Hogsmeade trip next month, did you see the notice?"

"What? Oh, no, I haven't checked the notice board since I got back."

"Yes, it's on Valentine's Day."

"Right," said Harry, wondering why she was telling him this. "Well, I suppose you want to -?"

"Only if you do," she said eagerly. Harry stared. He had been about to say, "I suppose you want to know when the next D.A. meeting is?" but her response did not seem to fit.

"I - er --" he said.

"Oh, it's okay if you don't," she said, looking mortified. "Don't worry. I -- I'll see you around." She walked away. Harry stood staring after her, his brain working frantically. Then something clunked into place.

"Cho! Hey - CHO!"

He ran after her, catching her halfway up the marble staircase.

"Er - d'you want to come into Hogsmeade with me on Valentine's Day?"

"Oooh, yes!" she said, blushing crimson and beaming at him.

"Right . . . well . . . that's settled then," said Harry, and feeling that the day was not going to be a complete loss after all, he headed off to the library to pick up Ron and Hermione before their afternoon lessons, walking in a rather bouncy way himself.

By six o'clock that evening, however, even the glow of having successfully asked out Cho Chang could not lighten the ominous feelings that intensified with every step Harry took towards Snape's office. He paused outside the door when he reached it, wishing he were almost anywhere else, then, taking a deep breath, he knocked and entered.

The shadowy room was lined with shelves bearing hundreds of glass jars in which slimy bits of animals and plants were suspended in variously colored potions. In one corner stood the cupboard full of ingredients that Snape had once accused Harry - not without reason - of robbing. Harry's attention was drawn towards the desk, however, where a shallow stone basin engraved with runes and symbols lay in a pool of candlelight. Harry recognized it at once - it was Dumbledore's Pensieve. Wondering what on earth it was doing there, he jumped when Snape's cold voice came out of the shadows.

"Shut the door behind you, Potter."

Harry did as he was told, with the horrible feeling that he was imprisoning himself. When he turned back into the room, Snape had moved into the light and was pointing silently at the chair opposite his desk. Harry sat down and so did Snape, his cold black eyes fixed unblinkingly upon Harry, dislike etched in every line of his face.

"Well, Potter, you know why you are here," he said. "The Headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency. I can only hope that you prove more adept at it than at Potions."

"Right," said Harry tersely.

"This may not be an ordinary class, Potter," said Snape, his eyes narrowed malevolently, "but I am still your teacher and you will therefore call me 'sir' or 'professor' at all times."

"Yes . . . sir," said Harry.

Snape continued to survey him through narrowed eyes for a moment, then said, "Now, Occlumency. As I told you back in your dear godfather's kitchen, this branch of magic seals the mind against magical intrusion and influence."

"And why does Professor Dumbledore think I need it, sir?"said Harry, looking directly into Snape's eyes and wondering whether Snape would answer. Snape looked back at him for a moment and then said contemptuously, "Surely even you could have worked that out by now, Potter? The Dark Lord is highly skilled at Legilimency -"

"What's that? Sir?"

"It is the ability to extract feelings and memories from another persons mind -"

"He can read minds?" said Harry quickly, his worst fears confirmed.

"You have no subtlety, Potter," said Snape, his dark eyes glittering. "You do not understand fine distinctions. It is one of the shortcomings that makes you such a lamentable potion-maker."

Snape paused for a moment, apparently to savor the pleasure of insulting Harry, before continuing.

"Only Muggles talk of 'mind-reading'. The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter - or at least, most minds are." He smirked. "It is true, however, that those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly. The Dark Lord, for instance, almost always knows when somebody is lying to him. Only those skilled at Occlumency are able to shut down those feelings and memories that contradict the lie, and so can utter falsehoods in his presence without detection." Whatever Snape said, Legilimency sounded like mind-reading to Harry, and he didn't like the sound of it at all.

"So he could know what we're thinking right now? Sir?"

"The Dark Lord is at a considerable distance and the walls and grounds of Hogwarts are guarded by many ancient spells and charms to ensure the bodily and mental safety of those who dwell within them," said Snape. "Time and space matter in magic, Potter. Eye contact is often essential to Legilimency."

"Well then, why do I have to learn Occlumency?"

Snape eyed Harry, tracing his mouth with one long, thin finger as he did so.

"The usual rules do not seem to apply with you, Potter. The curse that failed to kill you seems to have forged some kind of connection between you and the Dark Lord. The evidence suggests that at times, when your mind is most relaxed and vulnerable - when you are asleep, for instance - you are sharing the Dark Lord's thoughts and emotions. The Headmaster thinks it inadvisable for this to continue. He wishes me to teach you how to close your mind to the Dark Lord." Harry's heart was pumping fast again. None of this added up.

"But why does Professor Dumbledore want to stop it?" he asked abruptly. "I don't like it much, but it's been useful, hasn't it? I mean . . . I saw that snake attack Mr. Weasley and if I hadn't, Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have been able to save him, would he? Sir?"

Snape stared at Harry for a few moments, still tracing his mouth with his finger. When he spoke again, it was slowly and deliberately, as though he weighed every word.

"It appears that the Dark Lord has been unaware of the connection between you and himself until very recently. Up till now it seems that you have been experiencing his emotions, and sharing his thoughts, without his being any the wiser. However, the vision you had shortly before Christmas -"

"The one with the snake and Mr. Weasley?"

"Do not interrupt me, Potter," said Snape in a dangerous voice. "As I was saying, the vision you had shortly before Christmas represented such a powerful incursion upon the Dark Lord's thoughts -"

"I saw inside the snake's head, not his!"

"I thought I just told you not to interrupt me, Potter?"

But Harry did not care if Snape was angry; at last he seemed to be getting to the bottom of this business; he had moved forwards in his chair so that, without realizing it, he was perched on the very edge, tense as though poised for flight.

"How come I saw through the snakes eyes if it's Voldemort's thoughts I'm sharing?"

"Do not say the Dark Lord's name!" spat Snape.

There was a nasty silence. They glared at each other across the Pensieve.

"Professor Dumbledore says his name," said Harry quietly.

"Dumbledore is an extremely powerful wizard," Snape muttered. "While he may feel secure enough to use the name . . . the rest of us . . . " He rubbed his left forearm, apparently unconsciously, on the spot where Harry knew the Dark Mark was burned into his skin.

"I just wanted to know," Harry began again, forcing his voice back to politeness, "why -"

"You seem to have visited the snake's mind because that was where the Dark Lord was at that particular moment," snarled Snape. "He was possessing the snake at the time and so you dreamed you were inside it, too."

"And Vol-- he - realized I was there?"

"It seems so," said Snape coolly.

"How do you know?" said Harry urgently. "Is this just Professor Dumbledore guessing, or -?"

"I told you," said Snape, rigid in his chair, his eyes slits, "to call me 'sir'."

"Yes, sir," said Harry impatiently, "but how do you know -?"

"It is enough that we know," said Snape repressively. "The important point is that the Dark Lord is now aware that you are gaining access to his thoughts and feelings. He has also deduced that the process is likely to work in reverse; that is to say, he has realized that he might be able to access your thoughts and feelings in return -"

"And he might try and make me do things?" asked Harry. "Sir?" he added hurriedly.

"He might," said Snape, sounding cold and unconcerned. "Which brings us back to Occlumency."

Snape pulled out his wand from an inside pocket of his robes and Harry tensed in his chair, but Snape merely raised the wand to his temple and placed its tip into the greasy roots of his hair. When he withdrew it, some silvery substance came away, stretching from temple to wand like a thick gossamer strand, which broke as he pulled the wand away from it and fell gracefully into the Pensieve, where it swirled silvery-white, neither gas nor liquid. Twice more, Snape raised the wand to his temple and deposited the silvery substance into the stone basin, then, without offering any explanation of his behavior, he picked up the Pensieve carefully, removed it to a shelf out of their way and returned to face Harry with his wand held at the ready.

"Stand up and take out your wand, Potter."

Harry got to his feet, feeling nervous. They faced each other with the desk between them.

"You may use your wand to attempt to disarm me, or defend yourself in any other way you can think of," said Snape.

"And what are you going to do?" Harry asked, eyeing Snape's wand apprehensively.

"I am about to attempt to break into your mind," said Snape softly. "We are going to see how well you resist. I have been told that you have already shown aptitude at resisting the Imperius Curse. You will find that similar powers are needed for this . . . brace yourself, now. Legilimens!"

Snape had struck before Harry was ready, before he had even begun to summon any force of resistance. The office swam in front of his eyes and vanished; image after image was racing through his mind like a flickering film so vivid it blinded him to his surroundings. He was five, watching Dudley riding a new red bicycle, and his heart was bursting with jealousy . . . he was nine, and Ripper the bulldog was chasing him up a tree and the Dursleys were laughing below on the lawn . . . he was sitting under the Sorting Hat, and it was telling him he would do well in Slytherin . . . Hermione was lying in the hospital wing, her face covered with thick black hair . . . Buffy was unconscious on the ground in the Chamber of Secrets . . . a hundred Dementors were closing in on him beside the dark lake . . . Cho Chang was drawing nearer to him under the mistletoe . . .

"No," said a voice inside Harry's head, as the memory of Cho drew nearer, "you're not watching that, you're not watching it, it's private--"

He felt a sharp pain in his knee. Snape's office had come back into view and he realized that he had fallen to the floor; one of his knees had collided painfully with the leg of Snape's desk. He looked up at Snape, who had lowered his wand and was rubbing his wrist. There was an angry weal there, like a scorch mark.

"Did you mean to produce a Stinging Hex?" asked Snape coolly.

"No," said Harry bitterly, getting up from the floor.

"I thought not," said Snape, watching him closely. "You let me get in too far. You lost control."

"Did you see everything I saw?" Harry asked, unsure whether he wanted to hear the answer.

"Flashes of it," said Snape, his lip curling. "To whom did the dog belong?"

"My Aunt Marge," Harry muttered, hating Snape.

"Well, for a first attempt that was not as poor as it might have been," said Snape, raising his wand once more. "You managed to stop me eventually, though you wasted time and energy shouting. You must remain focused. Repel me with your brain and you will not need to resort to your wand."

"I'm trying," said Harry angrily, "but you're not telling me how!"

"Manners, Potter," said Snape dangerously. "Now, I want you to close your eyes."

Harry threw him a filthy look before doing as he was told. He did not like the idea of standing there with his eyes shut while Snape faced him, carrying a wand.

"Clear your mind, Potter," said Snape's cold voice. "Let go of all emotion . . . "

But Harry's anger at Snape continued to pound through his veins like venom. Let go of his anger? He could as easily detach his legs…

"You're not doing it, Potter . . . you will need more discipline than this . . . focus, now . . . "

Harry tried to empty his mind, tried not to think, or remember, or feel . . .

"Let's go again . . . on the count of three . . . one - two - three -Legilimens!"

A great black dragon was rearing in front of him . . . his father and mother were waving at him out of an enchanted mirror . . . Cedric Diggory was lying on the ground with blank eyes staring at him . . .

"NOOOOOOO!"

Harry was on his knees again, his face buried in his hands, his brain aching as though someone had been trying to pull it from his skull.

"Get up!" said Snape sharply. "Get up! You are not trying, you are making no effort. You are allowing me access to memories you fear, handing me weapons!"

Harry stood up again, his heart thumping wildly as though he had really just seen Cedric dead in the graveyard. Snape looked paler than usual, and angrier, though not nearly as angry as Harry was.

"I - am - making - an - effort," he said through clenched teeth.

"I told you to empty yourself of emotion!"

"Yeah? Well, I'm finding that hard at the moment," Harry snarled.

"Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord!" said Snape savagely. "Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked so easily - weak people, in other words - they stand no chance against his powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Potter!"

"I am not weak," said Harry in a low voice, fury now pumping through him so that he thought he might attack Snape in a moment.

"Then prove it! Master yourself!" spat Snape. "Control your anger, discipline your mind! We shall try again! Get ready, now! Legilimens!"

He was watching Uncle Vernon hammering the letterbox shut… a hundred Dementors were drifting across the lake in the grounds towards him… he was running along a windowless passage with Mr. Weasley… they were drawing nearer to the plain black door at the end of the corridor . . . Harry expected to go through it . . . but Mr. Weasley led him off to the left, down a flight of stone steps . . .

"I KNOW! I KNOW!"

He was on all fours again on Snape's office floor, his scar was prickling unpleasantly, but the voice that had just issued from his mouth was triumphant. He pushed himself up again to find Snape staring at him, his wand raised. It looked as though, this time, Snape had lifted the spell before Harry had even tried to fight back.

"What happened then, Potter?" he asked, eyeing Harry intently.

"I saw - I remembered," Harry panted. "I've just realized . . . "

"Realized what?" asked Snape sharply.

Harry did not answer at once; he was still savoring the moment of blinding realization as he rubbed his forehead . . . He had been dreaming about a windowless corridor ending in a locked door for months, without once realizing that it was a real place. Now, seeing the memory again, he knew that all along he had been dreaming about the corridor down which he had run with Mr. Weasley on the twelfth of August as they hurried to the courtrooms in the Ministry; it was the corridor leading to the Department of Mysteries and Mr. Weasley had been there the night that he had been attacked by Voldemort's snake. He looked up at Snape.

"What's in the Department of Mysteries?"

"What did you say?" Snape asked quietly and Harry saw, with deep satisfaction, that Snape was unnerved.

"I said, what's in the Department of Mysteries, sir?" Harry said.

"And why," said Snape slowly, "would you ask such a thing?"

"Because" said Harry, watching Snape's face closely, "that corridor I've just seen - I've been dreaming about it for months -- I've just recognized it - it leads to the Department of Mysteries . . . and I think Voldemort wants something from--"

"I have told you not to say the Dark Lord's name!"

They glared at each other. Harry's scar seared again, but he did not care. Snape looked agitated; but when he spoke again he sounded as though he was trying to appear cool and unconcerned.

"There are many things in the Department of Mysteries, Potter, few of which you would understand and none of which concern you. Do I make myself plain?"

"Yes," Harry said, still rubbing his prickling scar, which was becoming more painful.

"I want you back here same time on Wednesday. We will continue work then."

"Fine," said Harry. He was desperate to get out of Snape's office and find Ron and Hermione.

"You are to rid your mind of all emotion every night before sleep; empty it, make it blank and calm, you understand?"

"Yes," said Harry, who was barely listening.

"And be warned, Potter . . . I shall know if you have not practiced."

"Right," Harry mumbled. He picked up his schoolbag, swung it over his shoulder and hurried towards the office door. As he opened it, he glanced back at Snape, who had his back to Harry and was scooping his own thoughts out of the Pensieve with the tip of his wand and replacing them carefully inside his own head. Harry left without another word, closing the door carefully behind him, his scar still throbbing painfully.

* * *

Notes: Sorry for the late update . . . again. This chapter is a little longer, seeing as I had to include the Occlumency part since it is essential the Potterverse. I want to thank everyone for the reviews and the still continuing support. Thank you so much!


	46. Chapter 46

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

How about . . . no, she'd get caught. What if . . . forget it she'd be expelled. Well . . . it would be worth it. An expulsion for Umbridge's downfall does sound like a fair trade doesn't it? She could always go back to Sunnydale and finish school there. It wouldn't be too bad.

Defense Against the Dark Arts had not been an easy class to sit through on the first day back. Not when Buffy knew that Umbridge was skulking into her life where she absolutely didn't belong. And as Buffy pretended to read the book she had finished months ago, her mind planned all sorts of nasty and violent things as she repeatedly looked at the 'Pink-Eyesore'. Which continued to play even after all her classes were over and she was passing through the third floor corridor.

Leeches! Leeches were good. Wouldn't be too hard to come by, Snape must --

Anybody else, anything else, would've gotten a quick punch in the face. He was lucky she knew it was him.

"You know it's rude to yank someone into a room in the middle of an internal conversation," she said, languidly walking to the nearest desk and leaning against it.

"It's also rude not to say hello after not seeing someone for three weeks," he shot back.

"Hello," she smiled, and he felt right for the charm.

"Hi," he grinned.

"So, since you just had to drag me in here," she said, exaggerating her words. "How was Christmas?"

He was about to reply 'the usual' when he was suddenly reminded, not that it was hard to miss, that he was more interested in what she had done.

"Speaking of which," he started, walking closer, raking his eyes over her. "What the hell happened to you, and why didn't you do it sooner?"

A question Buffy was sure was being asked behind her back many times over.

"You know all these so-called, hidden compliments are giving me an inferiority complex," she said. "Was I so bad looking before or something?"

"No," he replied honestly. "But you have to admit, this is definitely an improvement."

"So people seem to think."

"Yeah," he mumbled, a flash of Theodore and Buffy talking coming to mind.

"I don't know," she shrugged, unaware of the green in Draco's eyes. "I just felt like a change. New year and all. Besides, it's not like this is all fresh. I used to dress like this back in L.A., well not exactly like this, the skirts were shorter."

His eyes popped. "Shorter?"

"And the tops were skimpier."

"Skimpier?" He gulped.

"And the dresses were, well . . . they didn't leave a whole lot to the imagination if you know what I mean."

Was it getting hotter in here? Draco cleared his throat and readjusted his tie, while Buffy lay completely oblivious to the heat coloring Draco's face.

"Draco, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he nearly squeaked before catching himself.

"What is it that you do for Umbridge exactly?"

What an out-of-the-blue, curious question to ask. Which made him wary of the intentions behind it as Draco could see the wheels turning in her head. The eagerness in her eyes.

"Why do you want to know?"

Because leeches were too obvious.

"Curiosity," she shrugged nonchalantly.

Yeah right.

"Noooo, I know you too well, Summers. You're up to something."

"I'm not up to anything. It's not my fault you've got a suspicious mind."

"Actually it is," he smirked. "You were the one who got me second guessing people in the first place."

"What?"

"Every time I thought I got you figured out you'd always spin me with something new."

"Looks like things haven't changed huh?" she grinned.

"Very little," he said.

Draco wasn't lying. Since they were children, he'd always tried to find out what made Buffy tick, especially since she knew him so well. But it irritated him to no end that all he found was himself going in circles. Out of everyone he knew she was the hardest puzzle to crack. She was full of surprises at every turn.

"Tell me," she said, not deterring herself from her mission.

"What's in it for me?" he bargained.

"My everlasting gratefulness."

He put a hand to his chin, pretending to mull it over. "No, I think you can do better than that."

"Or I can just, you know . . . not," she firmly denied. "I can always just find out all on my own thank you very much."

"All right then. Go ahead."

"I will."

Buffy pushed herself away from the desk and walked briskly to the door.

"Tomorrow morning?" he said.

"Duh," she smiled and exited the room.

* * *

"_So . . . so are you saying . . . " whispered Ron, "that the weapon - the thing You-Know-Who's after — is in the Ministry of Magic?" _

"_In the Department of Mysteries, it's got to be," Harry whispered. "I saw that door when your dad took me down to the courtrooms for my hearing and it's definitely the same one he was guarding when the snake bit him." _

_Hermione let out a long, slow sigh. _

"_Of course," she breathed. _

"_Of course what?" said Ron rather impatiently. _

"_Ron, think about it . . . Sturgis Podmore was trying to get through a door at the Ministry of Magic . . . it must have been that one, it's too much of a coincidence!" _

"_How come Sturgis was trying to break in when he's on our side?" said Ron. _

"_Well, I don't know," Hermione admitted. "That is a bit odd . . . " _

"_So what's in the Department of Mysteries?" Harry asked Ron. "Has your dad ever mentioned anything about it?" _

"_I know they call the people who work in there 'Unspeakables',"said Ron, frowning. "Because no one really seems to know what they do - weird place to have a weapon." _

Weird place indeed.

After his Occlumency lesson Harry joined Ron and Hermione in the library to relay what he had learned, and to discuss and understand what he had found out. But not too long after he had arrived had his scar started feeling the effects of having Snape penetrate his mind for such a long period of time and the three of them had retreated back to the Tower. Ignoring Fred and George's Headless Hats demonstration, Harry however couldn't ignore nor take the noise of the excited Gryffindors any longer and he climbed up the stairs to get some quiet.

He opened the door of his dormitory and was one step inside it when he experienced pain so severe he thought that someone must have sliced into the top of his head. He did not know where he was, whether he was standing or lying down, he did not even know his own name. Maniacal laughter was ringing in his ears . . . he was happier than he had been in a very long time . . . jubilant, ecstatic, triumphant . . . a wonderful, wonderful thing had happened . . .

"Harry? HARRY!"

Someone had hit him around the face. The insane laughter was punctuated with a cry of pain. The happiness was draining out of him, but the laughter continued . . . He opened his eyes and, as he did so, he became aware that the wild laughter was coming out of his own mouth. The moment he realized this, it died away; Harry lay panting on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, the scar on his forehead throbbing horribly. Ron was bending over him, looking very worried.

"What happened?" he said.

"I . . . dunno . . . " Harry gasped, sitting up again. "He's really happy . . . really happy . . . "

"You-Know-Who is?"

"Something good's happened," mumbled Harry. He was shaking as badly as he had done after seeing the snake attack Mr. Weasley and felt very sick. "Something he's been hoping for."

The words came, just as they had back in the Gryffindor changing room, as though a stranger was speaking them through Harry's mouth, yet he knew they were true. He took deep breaths, willing himself not to vomit all over Ron. He was very glad that Dean and Seamus were not here to watch this time.

"Hermione told me to come and check on you," said Ron in a low voice, helping Harry to his feet. "She says your Defenses will be low at the moment, after Snape's been fiddling around with your mind . . . still, I suppose it'll help in the long run, won't it?"

He looked doubtfully at Harry as he helped him towards his bed. Harry nodded without any conviction and slumped back on his pillows, aching all over from having fallen to the floor so often that evening, his scar still prickling painfully. He could not help feeling that his first foray into Occlumency had weakened his mind's resistance rather than strengthening it, and he wondered, with a feeling of great trepidation, what had happened to make Lord Voldemort the happiest he had been in fourteen years.

* * *

_MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN _

_MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS 'RALLYING POINT' FOR OLD DEATH EATERS_

_. . . Bellatrix Lestrange, convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom . . . Antonin Dolohov, convicted of the brutal murders of Gideon and Fabian Prewett . . . Augustus Rookwood, convicted of leaking Ministry of Magic secrets to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named . . . _

_The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban. Speaking to reporters in his private office, Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of yesterday evening and that he has already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of these individuals. "We find ourselves, most unfortunately, in the same position we were two and a half years ago when the murderer Sirius Black escaped," said Fudge last night. "Nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated. An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We think it likely that these individuals, who include Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, have rallied around Black as their leader. We are, however, doing all we can to round up the criminals, and we beg the magical community to remain alert and cautious. On no account should any of these individuals be approached."_

"There you are, Harry," said Ron, looking awestruck. "That's why he was happy last night."

"I don't believe this," snarled Harry, "Fudge is blaming the breakout on Sirius?"

"What other options does he have?" said Hermione bitterly. "He can hardly say, 'everyone,

Dumbledore warned me this might happen, the Azkaban guards have joined Lord Voldemort' -- stop whimpering, Ron -- 'now Voldemort's worst supporters have broken out, too.' I mean, he's spent a good six months telling everyone you and Dumbledore are liars, hasn't he?"

Harry glanced around as Hermione silently continued to read the rest of the report by herself. Not one person, aside from the professors, looked worried or one word was mentioned about the breakout. All he heard was Qudditch and homework coming from their mouths. Ignorance was bliss. But as his gaze swept over the Gryffindor table, he caught one other student deep into the Daily Prophet. Buffy held the paper hard in her hands and her face was scowled deeply. No doubt the mention of Sirius being blamed was causing it.

_TRAGIC DEMISE OF MINISTRY OF MAGIC WORKER _

_St. Mungo's Hospital promised a full inquiry last night after Ministry of Magic worker Broderick Bode, 49, was discovered dead in his bed, strangled by a potted-plant. Healers called to the scene were unable to revive Mr. Bode, who had been injured in a workplace accident some weeks prior to his death. Healer Miriam Strout, who was in charge of Mr. Bodes ward at the time of the incident, has been suspended on full pay and was unavailable for comment yesterday, but a spokeswizard for the hospital said in a statement: "St. Mungo's deeply regrets the death of Mr. Bode, whose health was improving steadily prior to this tragic accident. "We have strict guidelines on the decorations permitted on our wards but it appears that Healer Strout, busy over the Christmas period, overlooked the dangers of the plant on Mr. Bode's bedside table. As his speech and mobility improved, Healer Strout encouraged Mr. Bode to look after the plant himself, unaware that it was not an innocent Flitterbloom, but a cutting of Devil's Snare which, when touched by the convalescent Mr. Bode, throttled him instantly. "St. Mungo's is as yet unable to account for the presence of the plant on the ward and asks any witch or wizard with information to come forward."_

He was getting away with it. He was killing people and unleashing the worst hell could spit out and he was getting away with it. Damn it!

Buffy could feel the paper crushing under her fists. Fudge and the Ministry were playing right under Voldemort's hands and those idiots believed they were doing the right thing. How stupid can a person be? Might as well hand the entire Wizarding World over to Voldemort on a freaking silver platter. Morons! And to blame Sirius, Sirius! They were lucky she was so very many miles away or the very last thing Fudge would see was her fist in his face.

_. . . Bellatrix Lestrange, convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom . . . _

That line struck. How can they put that out in the open like that? Didn't they care how it would affect the people involved? How it would torment Neville when he saw it? Were they even made of human parts?

Buffy slammed the paper down with such force that the people around her turned and yelped in surprise. Their questioning eyes watching as she rose from the table and stormed out of the Great Hall. The air _wooshing_ behind her.

"Must be that bit about Sirius," Ron said as he watched her go.

"I don't think it is," said Hermione.

Unfair as it was, those who knew Sirius were not surprised, angry but not surprised, at the blatant attacks by the Ministry against him. He was an escape goat when they didn't have the answers they needed. Seeing Sirius's name wasn't strange in the Daily Prophet. But there was one name that was. A name that was attached to something personal and made public now. One that Hermione was sure had caused Buffy to react that way. And that name was Longbottom.

"Hagrid!"

"I'm fine," he quickly said, like he was expecting it.

Buffy was huffing her way through the hall when she spotted him. The half-giant marred with the kind of cuts and bruises she had only seen on her self on those post Apocalyptic days.

"You're a walking bruise. You are most definitely not fine!"

"Ssshhh," he whispered at her loud voice, and scooted her to the side. "It's jus' a few scratches," he tried to assure her, "nothin' too excited about."

"Hagrid, these are not just a few scratches. You have to be more careful around him."

"I am careful," he said indignantly, before tiring his expression. "He's jus' -- he's a right handful most o' of the time."

"Hence the being careful," she said. "And it's not just about your well being, which of course is the major factor here, but if you keep getting bruised, battered and broken people are gonna get even more suspicious, especially Umbridge, which means you can get fired."

"Not too far off on tha' one," he mumbled.

"What do you mean?"

If he looked sore and tired before, Hagrid was brining new meaning to the words. His shoulder sagged even lower and his head lulled forward.

"I . . . I've been put on probation," he said in such a sorrowed tone that Buffy was near the point of finding him a teddy bear.

"What?"

"Tha' Umbridge woman . . . put me on probation."

1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 4 . . . 5 . . . 6 . . .

"Why?" she pushed through clenched teeth. She didn't know why she asked. It's not like Umbridge needed a reason.

"Yeh know why," he mumbled.

Digging. Digging. Digging. That's what Umbridge was doing. Pretty soon that hole was going to get big enough and Buffy was going to push her in it.

More students began to leave the Great Hall and that ended any more questions Buffy had. Nosy eyes and prying ears were not what they needed.

"Be careful, Hagrid," she said, gave him a smile and his big arm a squeeze, and disappeared down the hall.

The door opened and closed but it didn't matter. Neville kept looking out the window. Watching as birds wized and dove around the grounds. His hands keeping themselves busy on his wand when an apple suddenly appeared before his vision. Glancing up, he found Buffy, face smiling and holding onto the offered fruit.

"I thought it was a knut for your thoughts?" he asked, assuming the reason for the gift.

"Apples taste better."

With a smile that was half-forced and half-genuine he took the apple from her hands and Buffy settled herself beside him. She didn't say anything else as she glanced out the window that had entertained Neville a minute ago.

"Aren't you going to ask?" he said.

Neville never told Buffy about his parents, though she probably was aware of their condition. She used to be in Slytherin, the Death Eater oven, and he was sure that the children of those people had discussed their so-called 'accomplishments'. And even if she didn't, the Daily Prophet had stated this morning that his parents had been tortured and permanently incapacitated by Bellatrix Lestrange, and that was bound to raise some questions.

"No," she firmly and gently replied without facing him.

A fully genuine little smile appeared on his face, and Neville bit into the sweet red apple as they both looked out into the tranquil scenery in silence.

Students noisily began to file into class a short time later. Settling themselves into their desks, aware and unquestioning of the two pupils near the window. Except for the usual three that seemed to be questioning Buffy at all times.

Hermione watched them with curious eyes. Neville didn't look as upset as she thought he would be. His face wasn't sullen but his shoulders were a bit sagged. Hermione had witnessed Buffy become a calming effect on Neville before. That day when he was on the verge of beating Malfoy to a bloody pulp, Buffy had appeared out of nowhere and with a single word and hand had prevented him from moving forward with his angered plans.

"All right, all right everyone settle down," Professor Flitwick ordered.

Buffy and Neville moved away from the calming spot to their seats without fuss. Neville was prepared to take extra close attention to his lessons today. He needed a distraction and learning was as good as any way for that to happen. While Buffy was going to keep an extra close eye on Neville, knowing how frazzled magic can get when your state of mind isn't up to its usual par.

"Okay, wands at the ready . . . "

Later on that evening another surprise came the way of the Gryffindor Tower, and centered itself right in the common room. Even if everyone pretended like it was an everyday occurrence and ignored that fact that it felt a little strange, they couldn't help the nagging feeling of wanting to look over to a careless Buffy who was sitting with them for what was the first time. She had only been a flash to them before as she entered and exited the tower, never stopping to hang out like everyone else. She could have only been found in two places, the Library or the dormitory, since she had returned to Hogwarts that cold September day. But like all things now, it seemed that Buffy was just not willing to blend into the background anymore.

She was sitting on the floor with her back against the wall, her shoes off and thrown aside. No cloak, no sweater, just a tie that was loose around the neck and a blouse that was unbuttoned two buttons down. Her hair was pilled up and secured with her wand. A few wisps of it lay loose around her face as she studied the book propped against her modestly covered upright knees and a lollipop in her mouth.

The collar of every teenage boy in that room seemed to stifle upon seeing that image. No matter if they still held a grudge or not.

Ron's eyes nearly popped out their sockets when he entered the room with Harry, and Neville behind them, and found Buffy in a position that made the back of his neck feel warmer. While Harry felt the heat from the tips of his toes to the end of every strand on his head. And Neville, expectantly, had no reaction whatsoever.

Lee Jordan, who was standing nearby, drifted to them with his eyes also on the little lady with the golden spun hair and a burning question in mind.

"Hey, Neville," he said, for the boy's attention not for a greeting, "can I ask you something?"

"Er . . . sure, I-I guess."

"What's _really_ going on between you and Buffy?"

Neville was taken by surprise at the question. A feeling that mimicked itself in Ron and Harry and caused them to snap their eyes to Lee. "What do you mean?"

"You two are always together aren't you?"

"Yeah," he replied, wary of where this was going.

"You're the only boy she seems attached to."

"So?"

"So are you two a couple?"

"A couple of what?" he innocently and obliviously asked.

There was a small burning sensation in Harry's chest at Lee's question, but at Neville's quick response it eased away. But only mildly as he soon remembered Lee's other statement, _'you're the only boy she seems attached to'_, what was that supposed to mean?

This was turning into a very interesting conversation, and more than a little curious himself about the answers, Ron intercepted the Q&A.

"He means is she your girlfriend?" he asked.

"My–my what?"

Neville always thought Buffy was pretty, and funny and smart and really sweet, and he even had a little crush on her at first, when they started becoming friends, but it never went past that. The crush died away as quickly as it had come and there was never a second thought about it after. She was just Buffy. To feel anything but friendship towards her now would just be . . . wrong.

"Your girlfriend," repeated Lee. "You know the love of your life. The reason for your existence," he teased.

"Wh--"

"She's pretty, you hang around her all the time, so that must mean you like her right?" asked Ron. He knew it was mean, childlish even, but he couldn't stop himself for some reason. A curious mind was not one that was easy to quell apparently.

Neville felt like he was being attacked. Bombarded with ridiculous and personal questions was shortening his temper and driving his patience. Especially today of all days. When just this morning the Daily Prophet had so '_nicely_' made his parents private details everyone else's knowledge.

"Well, what about you?" he shot back. "You think Hermione's pretty, don't you? You hang around her all the time. So, that means you must like her right?"

Ron felt his face go a bright scarlet red. "W-what?"

Hermione's ears must be ringing like mad wherever she was, and much to Ron's relief she wasn't in this room.

"Just because you think someone's pretty doesn't mean you like them," Neville said. "And just because you're together with someone most of the day doesn't mean that there's something to it. Aren't you supposed to hang out with your friends? Isn't that the whole point of having one?"

Backbone, thy name is Longbottom.

If Neville's voice had been louder, he would've gotten the attention of the entire room and caused embarrassment to the party at fault, but since it was no louder than the average voice and filled with such reproach, Ron and Lee felt more shame than if he had yelled at the top of his lungs.

"Sorry, Neville."

"Sorry."

Both boys mumbled their apologies, with their eyes to the ground. Harry, who was smart enough to stay quiet through the ordeal, looked away as well, but only because he felt bad for the attack on Neville and not trying to stop it. Seeing as he was eager for the information as well.

"It's okay," Neville replied, regaining his calm. He didn't mean to be so short with them, but he didn't feel guilty for it either. "Don't-don't worry about it."

He smiled a sure sign that it was really fine, and walked away. Lee quietly drifted off again to find some distraction for his guilt, and Harry and Ron moved to take seats on the couch, hoping to do the same.

"Hey," Buffy greeted brightly.

"Hello," Neville said, and lowered himself down beside her.

"So glad you're here, I really need your help on this Herbology essay," she said, opening up her bag.

And caused a dark green blob to spring out.

"Trevor!" Neville yelled.

The toad jumped farther and farther away before Neville even had a chance to move a limb.

"I got him," Buffy said, and rose to her feet in a flash.

Trevor jumped and croaked towards the portrait, and as he made one more leap towards the exit, Buffy's hand shot out and caught him midair.

A proud look on her face, Buffy glanced around the room, feeling the attention she was receiving from her antics. With a toad in her hand, nothing but socks on her feet and a lollipop in her mouth, she looked at Ron and Harry and gave them a wide smile, before settling herself back in her previous spot. Leaving the two boys completely dumbfounded by the experience.

* * *

Note: Waiting with crossed fingers for any reviews X No matter how many chapters I've already posted , or kind words I've received (thank you all by the way for that) I still get nervous whenever I post something new. Insecurity just seems to be my middle name :)

I once again would like to thank everyone for their continued reviews and reads of this keeps-getting-longer story. And for all my new readers, thank you for giving my story a chance :)


	47. Chapter 47

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

"Good morning class."

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge."

With a crawly little smile in place, Dolores Jane Umbridge strolled down the aisle to the front of the room, making sure everyone's wands were safely tucked away. Because apparently teenagers just didn't need to learn how to defend themselves these days. It's not like out and proud Death Eaters who lived for nothing but harm and pain had escaped a prison that drove the very sanest of people out of their minds and were now freely roaming the world. That's just ridiculous.

Buffy tapped an itchy finger at the end of the wand hidden in her sleeve. If she aimed it just right, she was sure she could hit Umbridge in the eye. She's done it to demons before. What would really be the difference now?

"Everyone please open your books and --"

It felt as big as a dragon and as visible as a speck of dust. A feeling that something in this room wasn't right.

Umbridge's beady little eyes swept over the entire span. There was something . . . off. Out of place. A straight line she had painstakingly put in place that now felt to be out of joint. But what was it? Everything looked all right. Nothing out of the ordinary was noticeable to her keen eyes. But someone had moved something. But who? And what? The answer to one of those questions seemed to lay on the little blonde girl who had her big and wide eyes on the professor.

Buffy Anne Summers, Umbridge internally snarled. Middle name and everything.

A barely visible smirk lifted the corner of Buffy's mouth, her eyes challenging the, and this is loosely termed, professor, egging her on to prove something that apparently wasn't there to begin with.

The face off lasted three seconds and in the end Umbridge conceded. But only because she had a class to teach. She didn't have time for silly foolish things.

"Everyone open your books and start your reading," she ordered tersely and took her seat.

Buffy did as she was told and opened her book. _Practical Defensive Magic and its Use Against the Dark Arts_. She just never said what book. With every word she read she could feel burning eyes in her direction. And that tiny little smirk once again reappeared. Because what the owner of those burning eyes didn't know was that the chair they were resting on was a few centimeters shorter today.

One of many little surprises that lay unsuspecting in the room.

* * *

"What's that noise?"

Ron and Harry paused and listened . . . what was that noise? Hermione moved further into the common room, her head lowered and her ears perked. A steady stream of low sound drifted over them. A bass of even rhythm and synchronized melody that had a person or two moving their feet subconsciously to the sound.

"It's coming from our dormitory," said Lavender off handedly, sitting in a nearby chair with Parvati.

"What?" asked Hermione, taken aback by the fact.

"We heard it as we were going up the stairs," replied Parvati. "Buffy must be having some sort of celebration up there."

"Celebration?" asked Ron.

"Or something," she said. "We didn't open the door in case you're wondering. If she wants to get herself into trouble with Umbridge that's her business. The less we know the better."

More questions lay at the tip of Hermione's tongue, but before they could be voiced the sound that permeated everything in the room abruptly stopped. Those few who had their feet tapping to the sound were caught mid step and they jolted slightly in surprise.

A loud, klaxon sound suddenly erupted and the stairs leading up to the girl's dormitory quickly smoothed itself to a slide. Everyone jumped in alarm at the sudden noise and their eyes moved to the stairway. Wondering what had caused the ruckus when there were no boys trying to climb up the steps.

And then they all watched as a small bundle with dark hair smoothly slid into the room.

"Hi," Susie said brightly once she reached the bottom.

Soon after came Ginny. "Hey."

Then Luna. Luna? "Hello," she softly greeted after rising to her feet.

Luna couldn't be the reason for sounding off the alarm. She may be from a different house but she was still a girl. So, if she didn't then who –

And then 'who' came right down the slide. At least one of 'who'.

"Hi," grinned Neville, coming to his feet and adjusting the leg of his pants.

Neville?!

"Neville, how did you--" Hermione was about to ask, but then . . .

"Bombs Away!"

One – two heads of red hair flashed down the slip.

"Fred? George?" Ron said.

"Hi-ya!" They responded with quick salute.

And of course last but not least . . .

Looking like she had all the calmness in the world, Buffy made her way down the slide and fluidly rose to her feet without pause.

"Hey guys," she said to the Trio standing nearby. "What's up?"

What was up? And another question on everyone's mind was –

"How did the boys get up there?" Hermione asked, her eyes wandering up the slope inquisitively. "There's no way they could've climbed all the way up the stairs before they changed."

"Who said we went up that stairs?" responded Fred, with a wink.

Hermione snapped demanding eyes to him. "What?"

"There are more ways than one to enter a room, Ms. Granger," said George.

"What were you doing up there?" Ron asked, more curious about that than the previous question. Knowing his brothers were not ones to reveal their sneaky ways. Especially not ones involving entering the girl's dormitory without getting caught.

"Celebrating Buffy's birthday," Ginny bouncily replied.

"Birthday?" asked Harry, focusing on the birthday girl.

"Yep, the big one-six," she nodded.

"I didn't know it was your birthday."

"You never asked," she said and Harry smiled. It seems that there were a lot of things Harry never asked.

"So, is that what all that noise was about?" inquired Ron.

"Noise?" asked Susie.

"What noise?" questioned Neville.

"You should know. You were causing it."

"Noise?" Ginny mumbled to herself, and then it went on like a light bulb. "Oh, you mean the music."

"Music?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah, Buffy has a muggle ste--"

Buffy clamped a hand over Susie's mouth, but unfortunately not in time. The secret was out.

"I'm so glad the warning labels of 'an-only-need-to-know-basis' and 'you-can't-tell-anyone' were put to use," she sarcastically said.

Susie placed a hand over Buffy's and gently moved it down away from her mouth. "Sorry," she apologized.

There are certain people you can never stay mad at. Especially eleven-year-old girls with wide, innocent eyes. Buffy put an arm around Susie's shoulders with a smile on her face and hugged her to her side.

"You have a muggle stereo?" Hermione whispered harshly in admonishment. "Those aren't allowed at Hogwarts. It's against the rules."

"How did you get it to play?" Ron asked Buffy, and was that . . . yes it was, actual enthusiasm and a smile.

"Well, you see . . . " Fred said. He put an arm around George and they leaned in closer to Ron. "Iiiiiiii . . . " and they started to sing, "like big butts and I cannot lie, you other brothers can't deny, when a girl walks in with an itty-bitty waist and a round thing in your face you get sprung . . . "

With an arm around the other one the Twins walked out of the common room. All the while singing at the top of their lungs.

"What did he say about my butt?" asked Ron, subconsciously putting a hand on his backside.

"It's a song, Ron," Ginny said amongst her giggles.

"What kind of a song is that?"

"A muggle one," Neville replied, though it was hard to form words with his lips so widely spread in amusement.

"Buffy's friend Xander gave her a compact disc with many amusing songs," Luna said. "They're very interesting."

"Sure sounds like it," Ron mumbled.

"You need to get that stereo out of here," Hermione whispered again. "If Umbridge were to--"

"If Umbridge didn't know about it before, she's not going to know about it now," Buffy interrupted. "Unless you're going to tell her and give her that kind of leverage."

"Leverage?"

"Anytime Umbridge knows anything about anyone breaking the rules is leverage. More ammo to fuel her power-infested fire. She already hates anything Gryffindor, and if she knows that one of us is breaking the law in this totalitarian society she's got going on, she's gonna be gunning for us more then ever. No matter who that lawbreaker may be."

There were a whole lot of words in that statement that left many in the circle going 'huh?'

"She's got a point."

And another 'huh?'

"Harry, you can't agree with that logic," Hermione stated, even if it was logic wrapped up in non-conforming words.

"If Umbridge were to find out that anybody in Gryffindor was doing something they shouldn't, she would be looking into us even more. And she may find out about certain things we don't want her to find out about." His last point insinuating the D.A.

"Even if that's true," Hermione said, and looked at Buffy pointedly. "We wouldn't be put in that kind of mess if _you_ weren't breaking the rules to begin with."

"What she doesn't know can't get caught," Buffy retorted. "Besides, I doubt I'm the only not walking the line."

Her words came out so heavy with meaning that Hermione's neck began to sweat.

"What do you mean by that?" But it's not like she was so eager to show it either.

"I already said what I meant. That's it."

She always knew what buttons to push. What to say to get what she wanted. And Hermione knew that in some way, Buffy had somehow gotten exactly that.

"There's cake up in Buffy's room," Ginny said, gaining the attention. Since when had the fifth year dormitory become Buffy's room? "You guys are welcomed to it."

"Thanks," Harry smiled; glad someone was trying to keep the peace.

"Come on," Susie requested, taking Neville by the arm. "You still owe me a Snow Castle."

"I thought I owed Buffy a Snow Castle," Neville said.

"I rented it out. Every one of her desserts until the thing melts. I so got the better end of the deal."

The group laughed and began filing out. And just like the two before them, the majority did not exit quietly.

" . . . have you ever went over to a friend's house to eat and the food just ain't no good, I mean the macaroni's soggy, the peas are mushed and the chicken tastes like wood . . . "

Harry, Ron and Hermione, along with many others, watched them go. The group looking so careless and happy that the little green monster couldn't help but bounce around their heads for second.

"This isn't right," Hermione grumbled. "She shouldn't be getting away with this."

"It's not like she's harboring a Death Eater, Hermione. Besides you let Fred and George get away with a lot worse," Harry told her.

"Are you taking her side?"

"I'm not taking anyone's side. Why can't you just take it as it is?"

"Because it's not as it is. She's breaking the rules!"

"So are we."

The pair faced off. Hermione's brown eyes meeting Harry's green ones evenly. And for once Ron was smart enough to stay out of it.

"It's not the same thing," she said.

"It's breaking the rules. The only difference is that Buffy's is completely harmless."

"Except for the fact that if she gets caught, like you both so _agreeably_ stated, it may cause trouble for the rest of us. And when that happens tell me again how completely harmless it is."

Hermione snapped around and stormed up the stairs, which had reverted to their former state, and with a few seconds a door could be heard slamming. Very loudly.

Harry gave a deep sigh. He was never going to win in the Buffy/Everyone Else war. He meant every word he said. Buffy's stereo was a threat, it was against the rules, but how could he admonish her for that when he had has his own case against him. And a much bigger one too.

"She'll cool off by tomorrow," Ron said quietly.

"Yeah," he nodded. Hopefully at least. Then it came to Harry how Ron had kept quiet when he was usually vocal against all things Buffy. Especially the golden opportunities when she might be in the wrong. "How come you didn't say anything?"

"Did you want me to?"

A humorless snicker went past his lips. "No."

"Didn't think so," Ron smiled. "Come on. I think that Charms essay will help to distract you."

The groan was inevitable. The essay would distract him but not in the most pleasant of ways.

That night, after all the excitement was over, Buffy rested on her bed behind closed drapes. The girls around her sound asleep as she looked over the presents she had received. A necklace from Remus, with a protection charm bestowed upon the little cross pendant. A surprising pair of tall, black Chanel boots from Sirius along with a note 'Who's your favorite now?' From her mother, a large pack of Oreo cookies, a candle with a comforting and familiar vanilla scent, her mother's quilt which was apparently now hers and a brand-new teddy bear with a red ribbon around its neck that was now keeping Mr. Gordo company. In other words, home-in-a-box. Xander had given her some very delightful CDs, filled with what he called 'music of the real world', a Magic 8-Ball to tell her fortune, and a stake decorated with googly eyes and arms. Mr. Pointy II, he was called. Willow sent her a talisman of Angelite, another gift charmed for protection, a box of chocolate-covered coffee beans, and a set of soft pink pajamas. A black leather jacket came the way of Faith, with a card saying 'don't read to much into this. Heard the English Isles were cold this time of year and leather don't rip easily. Happy B-day, B'. Short, sweet and strange rolled into one. Then there was the ever practical Giles, a pair of black gloves, a set of warm socks, a box of chocolates, and a sweater, with a card reminding her to be careful and being away from her watcher is no excuse to be a layabout. A slayer should always be in training, and blah, blah, blah.

And then the final one. The one Buffy held in her hands at this very moment. A book from Angel with '_Always_' inscribed on the very first page in his writing. _Always_ . . . Always was a very long time. And a promise that couldn't be kept. But even despite the fact that they couldn't spend forever side by side, the word seemed fitting. They were meant to love each other but apparently not meant be. Always is what they would have in the most beautiful and hardest of ways.

Buffy pressed the book against her stomach and sagged against the bed with her eyes closed. It was only going to be for a minute and then she would test the waters of trying to escape this place and head to the Forest. But her mind apparently had other plans.

The room was large and cold. Barely visible by the rare instance of light, like a candle reflected off black marble. She sat high and mighty on a chair made of dark wood intricately engraved with ornamental designs. The leather warmed under her touch and cushioned her form. With cold eyes she looked at the silent gathering. No sounds were heard except for the unevenness of her breathing. Masks of steel covered their faces. Robes of black hid their individuality. Their heads were bowed as they waited. And she would make them wait until she decided to grace them with her words. The smoothness started on her left leg and slowly it crept higher and higher. Caressing her thigh and then unto her arm. The snake crept lovingly against her skin like a cat that purred and rubbed against its owner's leg. It hissed gently against her ear and smoothed across the back of her neck. Slowly wrapping itself around her like vines . . .

Buffy snapped awake. Her heart beating wildly in her chest and her breathing abrasively labored. She jerked a hand to her neck, rubbing it from side to side as goose pimples rose over her skin. When she found nothing there her body immediately slumped in relief. She forced every image out of her mind. Repeating the mantra over and over until she believed it. It was just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream . . .

Ignoring the stinging that burned her skin.

* * *

Educational Decree #26: Teachers are hereby banned from giving students any information that is not strictly related to the subjects they are paid to teach.

Another day. Another rule. One that would prevent anyone from discussing the breakouts of Azkaban and questioning the Ministry's competence. Or whatever was left of it.

Fear was beginning to set in and ties were beginning to break. The faith in the Ministry was weakening. The majority didn't believe Sirius was to blame for the breakouts, no matter what Fudge had said. And if Fudge was so willing to lie about that what else was he lying about. Had Harry Potter been right all along? Was there more to Dumbledore's unwavering trust in Harry than just his favoritism of the boy?

No.

The Ministry of Magic was infallible. The best of the best worked within those walls. Mistakes were not an option and they were never, EVER, made. If it wasn't so, Dolores Jane Umbridge would never have worked for such a low, brow place. The Ministry was perfect, because she believed it to be so.

Rules and order defined daily life. They help one to see the right when they are obviously in the wrong, and that's exactly how Umbridge saw fit to run things. By inserting her decrees she was only helping these children see that they were absolutely wrong. Didn't they see that she was helping to mold their young minds in the right direction?

But even she had to admit that some children couldn't be helped. Lost causes. Which means they had to be taken care of. No matter what method that may be.

The letter arrived early one Tuesday morning. The crisp parchment paper waiting in her nervous hand. With a deep breath, and reminding herself that he would do the right thing, she opened it up. And the smile was immediate. The Ministry always did the right thing. And all she had to do now was wait.

Buffy poked the eggs with her fork. Scrambled eggs, again. She really could go for a McMuffin right about now. Ooh, with that hash-brown thing they serve and a nice cold mochaccino via the Espresso Pump. Mmmm . . . good. But nope, not today. Today she had to settle for the wonderfully prepared food the house-elves had made and go without the greasy fast food she craved. Stupid muggles and their addictive unhealthy food.

"Hello."

The voice pumped her heart a little faster and caused a smile to come to her face. Putting down her entertaining utensil, Buffy swung around in her seat.

"Hi."

Theodore lowered himself to meet her eye for eye, and quietly handed her a napkin wrapped around a medium sized lump.

She eyed him questioningly as she took it, but he wasn't going to say a word. Cause, you know, that would ruin the whole dark, mysterious thing he had going for him.

The lump felt warm and delicate. If she were to squeeze her hand just a little bit harder she was sure it would smush up. She unfolded the napkin to reveal her surprise and her mouth immediately watered.

"Noticed your lack of appetite over here, and figured you might want something different."

It was warm, fluffy and very chocolaty.

The pain au chocolat lay golden in her hands, that's right she knew what it was, and it took all of her strength to not gulp it down in one bite.

"How did you . . . " she began, her grateful eyes meeting his.

"House-elves are very easy to please." Apparently so, but why . . . "Happy late birthday."

The smile reappeared.

Theodore placed a hand to the side of her face and smoothed a thumb over her cheek quickly. He smiled one of those rare smiles and lifted himself straight. Flashing one last grin before walking away.

Leave a piece of chocolate in the sun long enough and it'll melt. Have a boy give a girl something sweet with an adorable smile on his face and her heart fared no better.

"I want one of those," Ginny half-sighed.

"Sorry but this bread's all mine," Buffy said, the smile unwavering from her face and her eyes still on her gift.

"I wasn't talking about the pastry."

Ginny's eyes were still on the trail of Theodore when Buffy looked to her. And when the red headed witch turned back, both girls couldn't help but laugh.

By the way the majority of the girls that looked after the Slytherin boy, it seems that they all wanted one of those. Which caused more than one boy in the Hall to want to kill one of those.

The bell rang minutes later and the ritual went on. Students left their tables and went to begin their lessons. The pastry now gone and settled in her stomach, Buffy swung the bag over her shoulder and moved out. Neville had missed the morning's meal, having wanted to sleep late, so she tucked an orange and a banana in her bag for their first class. She was just outside the Hall when the surprises of surprises called out her name.

"Buffy!"

Woah, heart attack.

Spinning around, her saucer eyes watched him as he came closer. The entire hallway watching as he came closer.

"Draco," she said. His usual lackeys lacked and there was no nervousness in him. He didn't seem to care that people around them were whispering, and the reason for that being . . . "You're talking to me. In public."

"I know," he smiled.

"That's . . . yeah, kinda speechless here."

It was rare when he took her by surprise. And he wouldn't deny how glad it made him feel when he did. But that gladness slowly leaked away when remembered the reason for coming to find her.

"I need to talk to you," his serious voice clear and un-hidden. "In private."

Even more whispers. Even more onlookers.

Draco took her by the arm and led her to the nearest quiet spot available. But he knew ears would be leaning in their direction when he had made his mind to talk to Buffy outside their sanctuary. So he had instructed Crabb and Goyle to not follow him but to keep close and ward off the busy bodies of Hogwarts.

"What is it?" Buffy asked, once they were out of earshot.

Her blood-pressure on high alert as she waited. This situation was out of the norm. Draco wouldn't be talking to her in front everyone unless they had agreed to it or something was in the dire zone. And Buffy, smartly, figured it was the latter.

"Umbridge told me to give you a message."

This wasn't helping the blood pressure.

"What is– wait. Why you?"

No one, other than Fred, George, Ginny, Hermione, Harry and Ron (yeah, that's a lot of other thans) knew that Buffy and Draco were still talking to each other. They were no longer in the same house. So, why would Umbridge make Draco, out of all people, the messenger boy?

"Because . . . because she knew _that_ would happen." He looked over to the gathered crowd, and when Buffy followed lead she understood. Umbridge wanted to get people talking.

"If you knew _that_ would happen, then why didn't you say no," she told him, peeved that he agreed to it when he knew the reason behind the Toad's request.

"Because I didn't want anyone else to tell you."

"Okay, now you're scaring me."

Draco looked away from her and Buffy couldn't help but keep her eyes on him. He turned back and the frown was deep on his face.

"After lunch you're excused from all of your lessons. You're to report to the Headmaster's office where . . . "

Come on Draco just spit it out.

"Where what?"

He leaned in closer and lowered his voice.

"Where Umbridge and the Minister will be waiting for you."

The Minister? Fudge was here, or will be here. Did Umbridge really feel the need to call him in just because of a few little words and– A dark stone settled in the middle of Buffy's stomach. The back of her left hand beginning to itch.

"Did she say why?" she shortly asked.

He shook his head.

Did she really need an answer? Fudge wasn't here because of a few little words. It was an ambush. To end Umbridge's curiosity about where Buffy had been before returning to Hogwarts and, more importantly, to find out what she had been doing. Since Umbridge couldn't find answers to her suspicions, she went to the one person who could. Someone who had connections to the Watcher's Council, who could not only reveal Buffy's calling but to find a way to prove she had been sneaking out at night. To find a reason to kick her out.

"Happy birthday, Buffy," he somberly said.

* * *

Notes: Hello :) Sorry about the late chapter, yet again. But I've been trying to write them faster, just not at the expense of the story. Thanks again for all the reviews. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. They make me happy, and a happy writer is a dedicated writer. I'm waiting with crossed fingers like the insecure author that I am :) for a positive outcome… and more reviews.


	48. Chapter 48

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

Buffy did what she did best. She faked it. Forced her jittery leg to remain still. Glued the happy smile to her face. Let her shoulders relax. To the outside world it was all good. On the inside she was a ball of frantic nerves.

The whispers were there of course, along with the shifty eyes from Draco to Buffy. Neville had heard about the interaction between them, with all the whispers going around. Curiosity shot up immediately but nothing else. If it was something he should know she would tell him.

Draco glanced often. Worry was on his mind and his vision couldn't help but look at the source of it. He wanted to be sure she was okay. Which she wasn't, no matter what she portrayed on the outside. She was paying too much attention to her lessons today. She smiled awkwardly at random moments. Her fingers kept playing with the quill in her hand. All little tell tale signs that revealed she wasn't as calm as she claimed to be.

Pansy didn't like it. Any of it. Draco was looking at Buffy way too much and he was talking to her again. Why was he talking to her again?! He was supposed to hate her. Buffy abandoned him and Draco was supposed to hate her! None of this was going as planned. One thing was for sure, one way or another Buffy had to go.

Tick. Tick. Tick. What happened to the tocks? Shouldn't there be tocks?! Buffy placed a hand at the back of her neck, hoping to keep it from tapping on the desk. Making noise would only cause more questioning looks and she's had enough of those. Of all the days for Professor McGonagall to assign reading in Transfiguration it had to be today. Reading she had done months ago when she hid herself in the library, away from the world.

Tick. Tick. Ti—RRRRING!!!!

Lunch time.

Noise immediately filtered the room as everyone put their items away and began to leave. Buffy gathered her things as slowly as she could, not like it would help, time always seemed to fly by when you wanted it to last forever. Placing the last item in her bag, she quickly glanced up and found Professor McGonagall looking in her direction. A frown pulling the corners of her mouth and her eyes heavy with worry. Of course she would know. Dumbledore probably knew as well. Buffy gave her a small smile, hoping to reassure her but the frown only deepened and Buffy knew there was no use in pretending. Can't fool a person who was able to see right through you and knew what was to come. Buffy stared for a second longer before slowly moving her eyes away, her body following soon after.

So much noise. The laughing and talking. Friends walking with friends. Couples holding hands. The whole carefree existence-ness of it all.

They all sucked.

"I-I'm really trying," Neville said beside her as they made their way through the corridors. "But I cannot not ask."

"Double negative."

"What's wrong?"

"What would be wrong?"

He stopped walking and looked at her. "Something's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong. Everything's completely . . . un-wrong," she smiled.

She resumed her steps a little too carelessly and headed for the Hall. Oh, yeah, something was definitely wrong.

Buffy and Neville settled into their seats, with Neville holding that concerned look on his face that Buffy couldn't stand. He didn't need to worry about her so much. She was the one who worried about other people not the other way around. Where were his priorities damn it.

"Hello," Ginny greeted, dropping next to Neville.

"Hey," Buffy chirped back.

Chicken sandwich, chips, and Pumpkin juice. Her could-be-last meal. How memorable. Buffy picked up a chip and was about to bite into when it was suddenly taken away from her.

"Uh, hello, eating that," she said to Fred and George who merged themselves on either side of her.

"It could be poisoned," said George, tossing the item aside.

"Poisoned?"

"You had to talk to Malfoy in public. You couldn't keep it in the closet. I thought getting older made a person wiser," commented Fred.

"And hungrier," she retorted and shoved a chip into her mouth before it could be snatched.

"Just when people were beginning to let go of the past you go and--"

"I go and continue not caring," she interrupted, annoyed. "Draco's my friend. I never denied that and if people have a problem with it than that's their shtick. Not mine. So raspberries to them."

"You never denied it but you weren't out in the open about it either."

"Makes a person wonder, why the sudden change?"

"Didn't know I needed an excuse to talk to _my_ friend."

"No need to get all snippy."

"You snipped first!"

"Pickles!"

Fred, George, Buffy and Neville looked at Ginny.

"What? I like pickles," she said, reaching over and picking one up.

Broke the tension, yes it did. Which sneaky little Ginny Weasley had planned to do all along.

Like the growing list that kept adding names of newborns on the registrar at Hogwarts, names magically appeared on the 'Worry for Buffy' list. Names that didn't need to be on a list that wasn't even supposed to exist in the first place.

"Buffy, we're just--"

"Looking out for you."

"I know, a-and it's sweet, but I'm a big girl. I can deal on my own. If people wanna continue to steer clear of my direction because I'm still friends with someone from Slytherin than--"

"Raspberries to them," Fred and George finished.

"Exactly."

And with that they resigned.

"Alright. It's your funeral," said one Twin turning forward to face the table and grabbing food items to fill his plate.

"If you want to be persecuted and hung up by your ankles that's all on you," said the other, turning forward as well to fill his own dishware.

"That's all I'm saying."

For the remainder of lunch Buffy forced herself to forget. There was no Umbridge, no Minister, and no fear of getting kicked out of Hogwarts. It was just lunch time with her friends. Ones that were oblivious to the fact that she might be leaving them after this.

The bell rang all too soon, loud and clear as though to remind her that it was over and never-never land was lost.

The dread in the pit of her stomach returned instantly. The palm of her hands began to perspire. Fred, Ginny and George waved goodbye and headed off to their respective destinations, Buffy watching them until they were lost in the crowd. Great friends were hard to come by and harder to keep. She just hoped she wouldn't have to go through it a second time.

"Neville, I uh . . . I won't be going to the next class . . . o-or the one after that."

His hand paused halfway to the table as he reached for his cloak. See, there was something wrong.

"Why not?"

"Er . . . because . . . because . . . " Think faster Buffy. Looking at his puppy dog eyes, she couldn't bring herself to lie. She owed Neville her honesty after he stuck by her side when no one else would. It's what true friendship was all about. Damn honesty. Quickly hopping across the table, Buffy stood by his side, and with a lowered voice filled him in. "Okay, the uh, the truth is. Today. When Draco and I were talking in the hallway. It was because he was delivering a message from Umbridge. I'm supposed to go to the Headmaster's office after lunch where she's expecting me." Just not her whole honesty.

"Expecting you?" That didn't sound good.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I don't know, Draco just said her and the Minister will be--"

"The Minster?"

Oh, whoops.

"Fudge is going to be there too?" he asked.

Too late to lie now. Nice job, Buffy. "Yes."

"Why would he need to be there?"

"I don't know."

Buffy had hid things from him before. Neville didn't know that Buffy and Draco were still on speaking terms this whole time until just minutes ago when the Twins had let it slip. He didn't say anything despite the fact that she told other people about it and not him and it had caused a prickle of hurt. But then again he was part of the secret D.A. meetings she didn't know about (so he thought). He didn't tell her about his parents, even if he had the right to do so. He had his own secrets too that was the point here. But Buffy was in trouble. And there was something else to it. Fudge wouldn't come down here on the count of one misbehaved student. If that were the case, he'd be here all the time.

"You're not telling me everything are you?"

No.

"What makes you say that?"

"Buffy," he said, gently. "If-if you're in some sort of trouble, maybe I can help. I'm good at helping."

"I know you are," she smiled, and Neville knew that was all he was going to get.

"But you won't let me will you?" His voice was soft and resigned. Sounding like he had given up his hope. He stared down at the table unable to look at her as he asked his next question for the fear that he might be right. "How come I have a feeling that this is something bad?"

Because it is.

Good friends were hard to come by and even harder to keep. The best way to ensure the latter was to be honest. Completely honest. Especially with unknown outcomes that might tear friends away from each other. And now looking at Neville with his hangdog expression she wondered if she could do it? Could she really tell him everything?

* * *

"You're going to be late."

"Who cares? I'll probably be leaving by the end of the day anyway."

"That's not funny."

"I wasn't joking."

They had reached the statue. The gateway to her witch trail, or slayer trial, whatever.

"Buffy, just . . . don't. Please?"

"Sorry."

Draco sighed loudly in one huff and glanced around away from her. She was going in there alone. And he was helpless. What if they did expel her? Umbridge had influence with Fudge. He listened to her and if she didn't like Buffy . . .

"Might as well get it over with," she grimly mumbled.

Her eyes looked over the gargoyle trepidly, giving a heaping sigh she said the password and the statue slowly groaned. Her path was now clear and all she had to do next was not run the other way. Turning to Draco, she gave him a quick smile hoping that reassuring him, it would help to reassure her. But his worried expression didn't move and her uneasiness remained. Turning back she pulled up her courage and stepped forward.

Draco quickly placed a hand on her upper arm and she turned around. "Buffy."

No, she was not going to let him say anything that would sound like a goodbye. She gently shrugged it off and moved back. "I'll see you later okay."

Seconds later and she was gone. The gargoyle statue back in its place. Draco leaned back against the railing and slammed a hard fist against the stone. He just got her back and now he had to sit by helplessly to wait and see if he was going to lose her again. Oh yeah, he's really going to be able to concentrate on his lessons now.

_Don't stop, thinking about tomorrow, don't stop, it'll soon be here, it'll be better than before, yesterdays gone, yesterdays gone _. . .

Nice song pick Buffy, maybe next time you can hum along to the MASH theme song. That'll brighten up your spirits. The staircase continued to swirl upwards. Higher and higher to the lion's gate. Then finally . . . Ding! Execution floor. Please step lightly.

The griffin knocker met her brass for eye. Taking another heaping breath for courage she then raised the fist from her side and moved it up to grasp a hold of the knocker and rapped one, two, three times. The door swung open slowly and she pulled her hand back sharply as though the griffin had bit her.

Heart beats pumped loudly in her chest. Anxiousness tingled her skin. Put her against demons and hellmouths and she was as good as pie but place her against the uncertain future of leaving a place close to her heart and ripping her friends away from her in the process and she was close to vomiting on her Italian leather shoes.

"Ms. Summers, please come in."

Dumbledore? Yay, phew, Dumbledore.

"Professor, I didn't know you were going to be here."

He smiled warmly at her in his purple robes and moved her to her seat.

"He won't be staying." Nails on a chalkboard. Professor Umbridge dressed in pink tweed walked away from whatever corner she came from and stepped closer to them. "Isn't that right, _Headmaster_?"

She mocked the last word. Like it were a joke that she had to refer to him that way.

"Yes, Dolores," he replied curtly and when he turned back to Buffy his expression softened. "I wanted to wait until you arrived. To make sure you were comfortable."

The phoenix already soared on that one.

"I'm fine."

He knew she was lying, but there was nothing he could do. He was helpless along with so many others in this situation. Buffy had the opportunity to become a great witch. She had a first rate mind and possessed such great instincts in magic. The fact that she had not only managed to catch up on her lessons after being away for two years, but also surpassing many of her classmates was proof of her abilities. Now she was teetering on the edge of being sent away because of one narrow-minded professor.

Dolores Umbridge did not like Buffy Summers. That much was clear. The girl did not bow down to injustice and look the other way. It was not in her nature. But add to that the suspicions that Buffy was a slayer, a suspicion that has to yet to be confirmed, and it only added to her distaste. Slayers were classified as dark creatures, along with vampires and werewolves, and that translated to not human in Umbridge's mind. And non-humans should not be allowed within Hogwarts. They were low creatures that had no place among normal, respectable wizards.

Voices were heard coming from the back of the room. Distinctly male and distinctly arrogant.

"Ah, Ms. Summers, so glad you have finally arrived," Fudge said. His choice of words obvious that Umbridge had colored his impression of a girl he had yet to meet.

"Hello, Minister," she politely greeted, and turned her eyes to the unfamiliar man by his side. A man with thinning gray hair dressed in a suit.

"So, I finally get to meet the infamous Buffy Summers," the man said, looking her over like she were a racehorse he had yet to place his bet on. "I must say I've been hearing a lot about you these days."

"Buffy," said Fudge, believing he had the right to use her first name so informally. Git. "This is Quentin Travers."

Q-Quentin Travers? Head of the Watcher's Council Quentin Travers? Her eyes widened expectantly but then immediately dropped to normal. Despite the rage stirring within her at this little surprise, she knew she shouldn't show anything other than confidence and tranquility. Why give them the satisfaction of showing they had gotten to her one way or another.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Travers," she smiled politely, forcing her features to remain neutral as she extended her hand.

Quentin took hold of it. Giving it an overly firm squeeze that wasn't necessary but Buffy didn't rise to the bait and her hand remained firm but nothing more.

Introductions were made. Pleasantries, whatever there was of them, were out of the way. It was time to get down to business.

"Albus, as you can see Ms. Summers arrived safe and sound," said Fudge, arrogance dripping in his voice. "As we have mentioned before this is official Ministry business, so your services will not be required."

All Fudge was missing was a hat with a propeller on it, a finger in his noise and singing 'nana-nana-na-na'.

"Yes I know, Cornelius." Dumbledore's blue eyes switched from hard to soft as he flicked his eyes from Fudge to Buffy. "This is official Ministry business, and as you had clearly stated, only those with high authority and those who are currently working for the Ministry, are allowed to be in this meeting."

Buffy had a first rate mind. She was able to think on her feet and when someone was hinting at something she got the point.

"Now, if you'll excuse me." Dumbledore smiled at Buffy and in a swish of starry filled purple he left. The room feeling colder in his absence.

"No use being here longer than we need to be," stated Fudge. "Quentin why don't you and I make ourselves comfortable."

The two men walked behind Dumbledore's desk and with all the nerve in the world they did just that. Umbridge conjured up her own fluffy pink chair and made room for herself beside Fudge. Her moon-eyes batting at his uncaring face.

"Now, Ms. Summers--"

"Excuse me," Buffy interrupted sweetly. "I thought only those with high authority and those who are currently working for the Ministry are allowed to be in this meeting?"

"Well, yes. That's true."

"Then with all do respect, why is Professor Umbridge here?"

Jaw to the floor. The nerve of this little girl.

"Because I am part of the Ministry!" Umbridge said crossly.

"No offense, but no you're not," Buffy argued. "Once you took the position here at Hogwarts, you became part of the staff. You haven't been to the Ministry of Magic since then. And, to my knowledge, one person cannot hold two positions at once."

"Despite my current office I am still involved with the Ministry, Ms. Summers."

"Involved but no longer part of. Those are two separate things, Professor."

"Which is of little meaning here. Isn't that right Cornelius?"

But Cornelius didn't respond. Everyone turned to Fudge, his face twisted in concentration. Buffy was questioning his authority. Challenging his decisions. Well, he wasn't going to let some girl weigh how strong of a hand he held. His choices were set in stone once they were made. No one made a fool of Cornelius Oswald Fudge, no sir.

"Cornelius?"

"She has a point, Dolores."

Like a slap to the face.

"But--but--" she stuttered.

"Once you became a Professor here, you were released from your duties at the Ministry remember?"

"Y-yes, I know b-but--"

"And as I have told Albus, only those with high authority, meaning Quentin, and those working for the Ministry, which is I, can be included in this meeting."

"But this whole _meeting_ was my idea!"

"Yes I know, but as the subject matter stretches beyond schooling and into the realm of the Ministry and the Watcher's Council, I cannot allow you to be here anymore than I can allow Dumbledore."

"But, Cornelius I --" her shrill, whiney voice hammered on.

"You must understand, Dolores. I am a fair man." Don't scoff Buffy. Don't scoff. "Rules are rules."

Umbridge's face went absolutely red. Her eyes narrowed heatedly on Buffy Summers's calm face. The rage making her hands shake. This was all her doing.

"Now, if you'll please excuse yourself, Dolores," Fudge easily dismissed. "We must get on with the meeting without further delays."

With blistering fury, Umbridge shot up with heaving breaths and without a word stormed out of the room. The fluffy pink chair poofed away to a cloud of black smoke.

One down. Two to go.

"Ms. Summers," Fudge said sternly. "Whether you are aware or unaware of the reason you are here, it's best to clear things up before we start. Tea?"

With a swish, there it lay. The expulsion of free will within a porcelain teapot.

"No, thank you," she refused politely.

"I insist. Please."

You can insist all you want.

"I'm not thirsty."

"Ms. Summers," said Fudge in his best fatherly voice that sounded a lot creepier than he realized. "Is there a reason to your aversion in drinking tea?"

Be calm Buffy. Be calm. Or she could, you know, not. But it occurred to Buffy that angering the Minister would not be the brightest of ideas. He did hold the fate of her Hogwarts days in his pudgy hands. And he would no doubt force her to drink the tea one way or another. Or expel her on the spot if she refused on the count of some ridiculous reason. Right now it would be in her best interest to remain pleasant and submissive. To a certain extent at least.

"Cream. Three sugars," she said. Biting the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming.

"Very good," he said. His smile even ickier.

He poured the steaming liquid into a cup and added the requested additions. Stirring it lightly before handing it over to her spoon and all.

"Thank you," she forced herself to say. She looked down at the poisoned apple to her privacy, and forcing her mind to become blank, she raised it to her lips.

Both men silently watched as Buffy sipped as small of an amount as she could, just enough so that it was passable. The hot tea washed down her throat, painting her tongue a bitter taste that magically seeped into her brain functions.

She placed the cup back on its saucer and lowered it to her lap. Hoping to leave it there for the rest of the trial.

"Ms. Summers, you have been brought here on the request of Professor Umbridge," Fudge stated. Every ounce of whatever warmth he was trying to pass off was gone. It was all trials and tribulations from here on out. "One of her many concerns pertaining yourself involve your classification of being the Vampire Slayer." Classification. Not just _being_ the, or your _chosen destiny_ of, but classification. How very analytical. "A fact that Dolores is still unaware of. She has also requested that we get down to confirming her suspicions of you escaping your dormitory every night to go hunting in the Forbidden Forest. Which, I'm sure you are aware, is against the rules."

Buffy remained quiet. She wasn't going to speak unless she was asked a direct question. Why bother offering information when they were so willing to just rip it out of her.

"You will be asked a serious of questions to clear up this situation." And there it was. "Mr. Travers and I are sure you will give us your full honesty."

Did she really have a choice here?

"Can you give us your full name please," he requested.

"Buffy Anne Summers."

"Your age."

"Sixteen."

"Current house."

"Gryffindor."

"Are you the Vampire Slayer." There was no lilt of a question, just a statement that needed confirming.

The answer was on the tip of her tongue, but it wouldn't roll forward. An image popped into her brain, a warm feeling in her chest arose and the answer was finally pushed out.

"No."

They cared very little for the answers before, but with this surprise both men gave their full attention.

"No?" Travers asked. Was there something wrong with the potion?

"No," she repeated. "I'm _a_ Vampire Slayer."

Fudge looked puzzle. What was the difference? But Travers did know the difference.

"You're speaking of Ms. Lehane," he concluded.

"Yes."

And the little flame went off.

"Oh yes, the other slayer," Fudge said proudly, like he had just solved the greatest puzzle in the world. "Well, in light of the circumstances, are you _a_ Vampire Slayer then?"

"Yes."

Keep the answers short. That was the plan. If they were so – Hello! Light bulb! She swerved the question. In all honesty she was the Vampire Slayer, the original, had even referred to herself that way after meeting Kendra, but when Fudge had asked about her slayer status, Faith immediately popped into her mind and she said no because she felt it was only right to say so. She was being honest to her conscience, and if Jiminy Cricket let her walk the middle line on that one, then as long as she justified her responses to be honest to herself, everything was copasetic, sorta. Glitch was they still had to be honest answers, but at least she controlled the extent of that honesty.

Of course this was only a theory.

"Is anyone aware of your status of being a Vampire Slayer?"

And there was the glitch. Smack, dab, wall. There was no way around that question. Her conscience can't lie on that one. Damn it.

"Yes," she spilled before she could even try to stop herself.

"Whom?"

Well, technically . . . "Giles."

"Ms. Summers, we are perfectly aware that your Watcher knows of your status," Travers said. "We are referring to those who are not employed by the Council that you have let in on your secret."

Of freakin' course. Buffy repeated the question in her mind. There had to be a loop hole somewhere. Think, think, think . . .

"My friends," she admitted regrettably. She couldn't prevent the answer but she could decide on how to define it. And a silent apology went out to those friends she was referring to. "In Sunnydale." There was no way around it, but at least with that answer she could protect certain other people who knew. Others who would be in far more danger if they were to be revealed.

"Yes, right," Travers said, his tone insinuating he had known all along. Idiot was testing the Veritaserum. Jerk. "Is that all?"

Couldn't they just leave it at that? Why did they have to keep asking questions?

"And my family."

"I'm assuming you're referring to your mother and father."

Well, not really but technically they only gave her a choice in between those two, so she was just answering their limited question.

"Just my mother."

The answer seemed to have soothed the savage beasts. And much to Buffy's great relief they moved on. But not without a warning.

"Ms. Summers," Travers began, his authority heavily implied. "When you were first called, Merrick had informed you to keep your identity a secret. Now, while I may understand the telling of ones parent, especially of a slayer so young and whose parent is fully aware of the supernatural and magical worlds, I am fairly disappointed that have gone against tradition and have let your friends be aware of your status. But seeing as the past cannot be changed, I can overlook it this time but I may not be so lenient in any future cases. Am I making myself clear?"

Ooh, scary. What a putz.

"Yes."

"Very good," Fudge nodded. "Then, onto our next item. It seems that Professor Umbridge believes you have been sneaking out of the castle at night to go hunting in the Forbidden Forest, and while she has obtained no proof of that matter, she firmly believes it should be something that should be addressed." Okay, see, now that was scary. Sweat beaded into her palms. Her heart rate was exceeding. The calm surface betraying the rough waters beneath. "Now, Ms. Summers. Have you or have you not been leaving the castle, past curfew, to sneak into the Forbidden Forest to hunt vampires?"

Why couldn't he have just asked her if she liked puppies? Honesty was pushing her brain. The answer hanging on the tip of her tongue. Yes, yes, yes! Screamed the potion. There had to be a way around it. Somewhere in those words there had to be a way out. _Have you or have you not been leaving the castle, past curfew, to sneak into the Forbidden Forest to hunt vampires. Have you or have you not been leaving the castle, past curfew, to sneak into the Forbidden Forest to hunt_ . . . vampires.

"No," she confidently replied.

"No?" Fudge asked unbelieving.

"No."

Travers and Fudge leaned forward, their eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Just so we're clear, you can honestly say you haven't been sneaking out of your dormitory every night to hunt the Forbidden Forest, is that correct?"

They did it again, and they didn't even realize they were doing it.

"Correct."

The Veritaserum was impenetrable, only the antidote could banish it but neither man saw Buffy drink anything other than her tea. Even the smallest amounts of the truth potion provided the strongest of effects. The liquid sitting in Buffy's teacup was less than what had originally been poured. She had been completely honest thus far. She had to be telling the truth. There was no other option.

They didn't believe her, Buffy could see it, but they also knew they couldn't disapprove it. They had drugged her themselves, slipped the liquid that took over parts of her mind. However, if she was able to find a way around the intrusion and protect her privacy than that was in her right, right?

Fudge cleared his throat roughly while Travers leaned back in his chair with his arms across his chest in deep thought. Both men eyeing her critically.

"Ms. Summers," Fudge said. "Dolores has informed me that you are a supporter of the claims made by Harry Potter and Dumbledore. That you believe in their false statements that Voldemort has returned." She had to give it to him, if Fudge couldn't vilify her one way, he could at least try to tie her to those who have already suffered his paranoid mind. "While ones _opinion_ is his own, I must remind you of how dangerous it can be to follow those of false statements. You have been away a long time and as such were not around last year. We lost a great lad in Mr. Diggory, and while it was a tragedy to lose him in the TriWizard Tournament, an event that those who participated were warned could've happened, Voldemort was not the cause for his demise. He has not or will not ever return. Someone of your nature should know how hazardous it can be to cause panic when there is no reason for one. It would be a shame for you to follow the wrong path and suffer the consequences."

Once more with malice.

Bullying, that's all he knew how to do when he didn't get his way. Well no one bullied Buffy, not anymore.

"My opinions are my own," she nodded firmly. "If I chose to decide to believe in something than I will. I'm a slayer Mr. Fudge, if there's a potential threat, no matter how small it may be, I can't pretend it doesn't exist."

"But Voldemort is not a demon."

"He kills people. Destroys the lives of anyone he wants to without flinching, murders anybody that gets in his way and will do anything for power. That doesn't sound like a demon to you?"

Travers couldn't help the slight smugness that came over him. He and Cornelius were in all intents and purposes 'friends'. But competition between the Ministry and the Watcher's Council was somewhat inevitable. Both dealt with magic and the supernatural. Quentin had his slayer and Cornelius had his Aurors, a whole department to deal with what one slayer was able to do. And hearing Buffy proving her knowledge of demons to the Minister of Magic himself, well, in Quentin's mind, that's match-point for the Watcher's Council.

"Demon or not, you can't slay what does not exist," Fudge said.

"If that's what you believe then I guess there's nothing to worry about is there," she retorted.

Dolores was right, this girl had too much attitude and rebellion in her. That did not suit well for a place that demanded order.

"Buffy is a slayer Cornelius, she's been trained to expect the unexpected, can't blame a girl for being trained the right way," said Travers calmly almost bored, surprising Buffy with his defense. "No matter how much of a dead end it may be." Now that didn't surprise Buffy. "She'll realize in the end that all this belief in Dumbledore was a mistake, until then what harm can a fifth year do?"

In other words, what can a fifth year do to gamble Fudge's Minister Chair? Nothing, and if she couldn't than why should he care about her beliefs? She didn't have Dumbledore's influence, so there was no threat. No one will believe her. She didn't matter.

Despite what it may appear as, Travers was not coming to Buffy's defense. She only provided something he had been trying to achieve for some time. A spy in the Wizarding World. Men of power did not trust anyone, even a so-called friend. The Ministry had too many secrets, and Travers worried that at some point Fudge would try to take control of the Council and it would no longer be its own institution but just another branch within the Ministry. He wasn't going to let that happen even if he had to use a teenage girl to prevent it. This was of course a foolish belief seeing as Buffy would never spy for his paranoid mind if he were to tell her. People needed to stop believing she would be a spy for anything, who did they think she was Maxwell Smart?

"Guess you're right, Quentin," Fudge said, with a relieved smile. Buffy Summers was just a student. A peon of a girl who in no way threatened his position. She could believe in flying saucers for all he cared. "In light of these revelations, it seems, Ms. Summers, that everything has been sorted out now hasn't it," he said, turning to face her. "Unless there are any questions, which I'm sure there aren't, the only thing left now is just to remind you to be on your best behavior and to refrain from your, one might say, slayer urges. I will be informing Professor Umbridge of today's revelations of course, so she will know that the entire situation has been clarified."

Uh-oh. Problem.

The Minister of Magic and the Head of the Watcher's Council rose from their seats with all the lack of manners in the world and looked as though they were about to leave.

"I'm sorry, but why does Professor Umbridge need to know about this?" Buffy graciously asked, pausing their movements and then having them settle back in their seats.

"Well, because Dolores is the one who called for us to be here. To get this all sorted out. It is within her right to know of the information."

Except that it if she did know Umbridge would make Buffy's life even more of a living hell than it already was with that woman.

"Minister, and I'm sure Mr. Travers will agree with me on this, but it's against Council policy to reveal the secret identity of a slayer, and if Professor Umbridge were to know than you would be violating that rule." She had to grasp at straws here.

"Yes, but seeing as I'm not part of the Council I have no obligation to fulfill that rule. Also, if a slayer is so unwilling to uphold that regulation for her own protection than why should any other person feel the need to do so either."

He had to be a smug bastard about it didn't he.

"You're right," she said, lowering her head in 'submission'. She had to play this right, be the ignorant teenager, stroke his ego if she had too. Which was of course an ew thing to do. "I broke the Council rules, which was a stupid, stupid thing to do, but I'm sure a man of your experience will not make the same mistake. I mean, your understanding of regulation and the need for secrecy goes so far beyond my own. And I'm sure by following your prime example, I will hope to one day come close to achieving your level of maturity."

Huh, would you look at that, Veritaserum must've worn off.

She was still so young. Just a child really. So much to learn, and if he, the Minister of Magic, someone so many looked up to, couldn't provide her with such perfect examples of following regulation than who will.

"What do you think, Quentin?"

"It is against Council policy to reveal a slayer's identity. An adolescent like Ms. Summers has so much to learn about the necessity of secrecy." Go ahead, talk about her like she's not here. Actually can you just go? "But we've had the experience to know better. Revealing her identity would put the Council and the Ministry in jeopardy. Demons and the now free Death Eaters will be aware of her existence. The first witch-slayer in centuries. They'll want to know more. That will put us in danger. Are you willing to risk it, Cornelius?"

Buffy, couldn't believe how self-serving they were. Never mind the risk to her own life, and that of those closest to her, all these two were worried about was of the slight chance that it will affect them. If it didn't put the lives of those she cared for in danger she would tell the whole world of her secret just to infuriate those two.

"Dolores will not tell a soul if I ask her to."

"Can you be so sure?"

Can he? Dolores was a trust worthy woman, but trust was a luxury now. Death Eaters were now roaming free and the breakout had caused scepticism of Cornelius's position of Minister. There was too much at jeopardy at the moment. One more faulty move and Cornelius could very well find himself scrubbing the floors of the Ministry instead of ruling it. He will not risk that.

"Ms. Summers," Fudge spoke seriously. "For your protection," sure it was, "the information that was revealed in this room shall not go past these walls. Dolores will not know of your slayer identity but she will be told of your honest confession that you have not been leaving your room at night to prowl the Forest. Despite my assurance in her, I think it will be best not to betray the confidence the Council has instilled in me to follow their policies."

"I understand," Buffy said evenly, restraining herself from jumping for joy.

"As such, I'm sure we can hope you will do the same and not reveal your secret to anyone other than those who are already aware."

"Yes," she pushed past clenched teeth.

"Then it's all settled," Fudge said, the forced smile on his lips once again. "Well, I must say it was lovely to meet you, Ms. Summers. Despite certain aspects, you do seem like a very bright young witch. I hope you will take advantage of your schooling here and prove to be a great witch."

"Thank you," she smiled, she was sure that was as close to a compliment as she was going to get.

"Ms. Summers," Travers spoke next. "I will be informing Mr. Giles of this meeting, for his records of course, I'm sure you will be hearing from him soon. It was a delight to meet you and I hope it will not be the last of our meetings." She hoped it was.

Both men rose from their chairs and without so much as a goodbye or a second look they left through the main door.

Buffy sagged into her chair like a blob of goo. Her head lulled back and her eyes closed in relief. Those were some rough waters that was for sure.

"You did very well."

Buffy immediately tensed and straightened up in her seat, looking around for the owner of that voice. Her eyes landed on the portrait of a witch with silver ringlets, the name Dilys Derwent underneath the frame.

"It wasn't easy," Buffy muttered tiredly, relaxing into her chair.

"I'm sure it wasn't," Dilys smiled. "But that wasn't the point. Very, very few have managed what you have. You should be proud of that."

"Proud?" There's no way she could've known, unless . . .

"Don't worry, you weren't as obvious as you think you were. Portraits know the on-goings of those within the castle, we believe it's in our right to be informed. And your, shall we say, extra activities, serve great purpose to all here, which is why we have sworn ourselves to secrecy about your other nature."

Newly revealed allies that were the eyes and ears of Hogwarts, what a very pleasant surprise. And definitely a relief when she found herself roaming the castle some hopefully soon night.

"Thank you," she smiled gratefully.

"There is no need. Like I said, your activities serve great purpose here, you risk your life and your presence here at Hogwarts for the sake of others, it is the occupants within this castle who should be thanking you. That is of course if they only knew, which if they were to find out, it will not be from any of us."

"Which means thank you, again," she smiled that very quickly stretched into a yawn.

"You should get some rest," Dilys's motherly voice said. "It has been a very long day for you."

"Yes it has," she agreed wholeheartedly, then lifted herself up and stretched. Exhaustion in every part of her limbs. "Ms. or is it Headmaster?"

"Just Dilys."

"Okay, Dilys," she nodded. "Would you please tell Dumbledore of what happened? I doubt he will get the full story from Fudge, if he tells him at all."

"I will."

"Thank you."

They wished each other goodnights, even if it was still just evening, and Buffy left the office, rushing to her dormitory.

She didn't hear anyone mention Fudge along her way so that must mean neither he nor Travers have been seen, good. No questions. It was mean, but she was thankful she didn't run into Draco, she was too tired to explain right now. But as she entered the common room, she found Neville waiting expectantly that look on his face again and unfortunately this was someone she couldn't escape.

"Well?" he asked, when he reached her.

"I'm kinda beat from the interrogation right now, but I promise I'll spill tomorrow," she said. "But good news is, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

Overtaken with relief and joy, Neville hugged her. She wasn't leaving! She wasn't leaving!

Curiosity rose again, but good news was the students were used to curiosity when it came to Buffy so they ignored the scene and went about their daily ways.

"So by this display of affection I'm guessing you're happy I'm staying?"

Neville released her. "To borrow from you, duh."

Buffy grinned, she was Sunnydaleying Neville. Yay!

"So, has anyone wondered where I was when I was a no-show for lessons?"

"You had to expect them to, but no one asked, guess they just figured you were in trouble or something."

"Buffy!"

"Buffy!"

"Buffy!"

Wow, three Buffy's in a row.

Fred, Ginny, and George walked to them. Most likely expecting answers.

"Heard you skipped out on lessons," said Fred.

"Where'd you go?" asked Ginny.

"Uh . . . " That extra sensory perception that someone who wasn't in this little group was listening perked up. Especially three pairs of ears. "I was . . . I was in detention."

"Detention?" George asked.

"Yeah, um, Umbridge gave me another one. She said she couldn't fit me in right after the one I had before cause – cause she had so many other students to give detention to, so she uh, she tacked on this one today. That's what Draco had told me this morning."

Wow, that Veritaserum really had worn off hadn't it. And props to her for that amazingly put lie on the spot. And to add believability, with her hands behind her back, she scratched the back of the left one as hard she could.

"How's your hand?" Ginny asked concerned, right on cue.

Giving it extra marks, Buffy moved her hand forward and showed it to her. The skin appearing bright red and marked raw.

Three of them winced, while Neville internally applauded at her quick thinking.

"It looks worse than it is," she said.

"I would hope so," Fred commented.

"It is," she affirmed again, and tucked her hand back. "Anyway, I'm really beat, you know with the mutilation and all, I'm gonna head up and get some sleep. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Okay, good idea," Ginny agreed.

"'Night," Buffy bade and moved to the stairs.

"'Night," all three repeated.

Before climbing the first step, Buffy turned to Harry, who was looking in her direction, and she smiled a ghost of gesture that only lifted the edges of her mouth, and without waiting for anything in return she turned back and climbed up the stairs.

Meanwhile, Ron was contemplating what he had just heard and seen. He wasn't close but when Buffy showed the back of her hand it was clearly red and scratched deep. And that threw a wrench in his whole Buffy-was-a-spy idea. Now what was he supposed to think?

Face washed, pajamas on, and drapes drawn, Buffy settled for a long nights sleep. Dreamscape came as soon as her head hit the pillow, and a dream soon arrived that her unconscious mind found familiar. A suppressed memory that got triggered by the Veritaserum. A dream that involved Ginny Weasley.

* * *

Note: Before the flames begin, I know a tacked on another 'did Buffy tell this person about her slayerness' question in the story, and I'm not going to apologize for it, I have my reasons :) But aside from that, I want to thank everyone for their reviews. I appreciate every single one of them, even if takes me a while to update, they help me to continue writing. So, a big thanks to the reviewers and the readers!


	49. Chapter 49

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

It was cold. And wet. Unclear whispers filled her brain. Everything was dark. Everything felt so far away. Where was she? Slowly she opened her eyes, thankful for the muted light in the room. Everything looked blurry. But the room was big. Too big and very strange. She moved her eyes to clear the picture and saw red. A blurry, red blob that moved. And she heard something. Someone was talking to her. But it was so far away . . .

"Buffy . . . Buffy . . . "

They were saying her name. The blurry, red figure was saying her name. She squinted her eyes and forced them to focus. The picture was becoming clearer now.

"Ginny?"

"Oh, Buffy thank Merlin you're awake."

Pictures were beginning to straighten, and Buffy could make out Ginny's small form. And she was sideways. That was odd. But when Buffy began to move, she realized she was the one who was sideways. She was laying on a cold, wet stone floor while Ginny sat leaning toward her. How did they get here?

"Ginny, what's . . . " The whispers were getting louder. Telling her things she didn't understand.

"We have to get out of here; we have to get out of here now."

"What's--" The whispers were fighting, making her head hurt. Light and dark, good and bad, they were fighting so hard.

Buffy struggled to her feet. Her hands cradling her head as it struggled to find peace.

"Buffy, we can't stay here," Ginny pleaded, standing now. "It's not safe."

"I . . . I-I know, but how . . . "

Stop it! Stop fighting! Neither, it's neither! She screamed at them. Then, suddenly, the voices stopped. A heavy feeling slipped into her stomach. Something was coming. Something dark and bad.

"Buffy--"

"Shhh," she ordered, paying close attention. And a whisper in her heard laughed. The whisper was happy. And the other whisper told her why. And fear shot into her. "Ginny run!"

Buffy rushed to her, grabbing a hold of her hand and pulled the small girl with her just as the Basilisk slithered out of its hole.

They ran and sloshed against the wet floor. Swerved and slid to get away from the creature that thirsted for their blood. They twisted in and out of the tunnels, hoping to confuse it but it stayed on their trail. They ran faster and faster, further into the twisting paths. They needed to get out, somewhere wide and open. They ran and ran and then, they stopped. Bars marked the dead end.

"Bloody hell," Buffy cursed.

"Uh . . . Buffy," Ginny said, tugging at her hand.

"What?" she snapped, frustrated.

Ginny didn't say anything, didn't move her eyes from it as she pointed a finger to the very large shadow on the wall that was coming closer with every half-second. And Buffy froze. They were trapped. The Basilisk was coming closer and they had nowhere to go. Come on, Buffy think. There was a surge of instinct in her to fight causing her hands to turn into fists. And then she felt it. The wand in her right hand. The whispers were coming back. She forced her mind to concentrate and like a sneeze a spell came to her. Forcing Ginny back a few steps, Buffy stepped forward and raised her wand to the metal bars blocking their path. With a silent flick blue light shot out, and reacting quickly Buffy covered Ginny's body with her own as the bars blasted away. Leaving a large hole in their wake.

"Come on," Buffy said hurriedly, and they stormed out of the tunnel. Barely missing the Basilisk as it reached out with its open jaw.

It was all one big circle, and they were heading back to the same spot they had started from.

The floor was slippery, they had been running so fast, and with one faulty step Ginny Weasley slipped and tumbled to the ground. Buffy was already feet away when she realized her hand was empty. Stopping immediately she turned around, and her eyes widened when she did, realizing she wasn't going to be able to reach Ginny in time. Not if she wanted to save her.

The Basilisk zeroed in on Ginny's fallen form. His eyes set on his victim as her eyes were unable to look away. She wasn't looking away! Buffy's fear widened. An unknown feeling warned her if Ginny continued to stare at the evil snake it would lead to something dreadful. Something that couldn't be recovered from.

"Ginny! Ginny, don't look at it! Look . . . just look somewhere else!"

"I-I-I can't. I-I-I . . . "

"Ginny, look at me! Look at ME! Ginny, please!" she pleaded desperately.

But Ginny couldn't. She was too afraid to move. Her eyes kept traveling over the creature's large face as it came closer. Her vision almost reaching its golden eyes.

Damn it, Ginny. Buffy pushed her brain for something she could do. There had to be something. The Basilisk was only a hairbreadth away from her. She couldn't let it hurt her. She won't let it! Buffy's right hand lifted and red light flashed out of her wand on silent command. The light enveloped Ginny, taking over her, and in the next second the girl slumped to the floor, completely unconscious. The jerk of instinct faded as soon as Ginny reached the ground, leaving Buffy instantly confused as to what she had just done.

The Basilisk sniffed the air around the now fallen body. It smelled of magic and it was unappealing making it snort out in distaste. He sensed another body nearby, warm and awake, and with new conviction it moved forward.

Buffy lowered her arm, stunned by what had transpired. What did she do? How did she . . . What the bloody hell happened?! Her hands snapped up to cradle her head; the whispering was back, trapping every corner of her mind. It was so loud. So . . . so . . . Everything felt heavy. Her body couldn't take the pressure. Prying her eyes open Buffy saw a large blurry figure. Thick fogs of breath panting over skin. Her mouth was moving but she couldn't . . . she couldn't . . . Everything was getting darker. So . . . so dark . . .

~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~

"Ginny . . . Ginny . . . "

"Mmm, no, mum I don't want to go to Great Auntie Muriel's," she mumbled.

"Ginny," Buffy whispered again, shaking her shoulder gently. "Wake up."

One eye slowly opened and then the other as Ginny struggled with slipping out of her slumber.

"Buffy?" she asked, her voice rough. "What's going on?"

"I need to talk to you."

The red head glanced out the window and noticed that it was still dark. "Now?"

"Yes, now."

Without a yes or a no, Buffy moved away from the bed. Ginny struggled to get up once, and then settled for snuggling back into the mattress. Her brain heading for sleep. Right before she was pulled out of her bed and out of the room.

"Couldn't this wait till morning," she mumbled, as she staggered down the stairs and into the common room.

"You could've told me you know," Buffy said, leading her to the couch.

"I'm sorry," she yawned. "But it's way too early to be guessing. What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about what happened in the Chamber of Secrets."

That was as effective as a straight shot of espresso.

"You remember?" she asked, glad but still wary.

"As much as my dream told me," Buffy replied, and relayed everything she saw. When the tale was over, Ginny leaned back against the arm of the sofa with an enormous grin in her face. "Did all that really happen?"

"Every bit of it," Ginny nodded, and then tossed a cushion, hitting Buffy in the face.

"Hey! What--"

"Took you long enough. I was wondering when that thick head of yours was finally going to remember."

"Sorry for trying to suppress a traumatizing memory."

"It wasn't traumatizing, well it was, but . . . " The joking tone in her voice disappeared and her features straightened. "You saved my life that day, Buffy. What you did . . . we weren't friends. I didn't like you. You tormented my brothers and mocked my family. You never spoke to me once. Acted like I didn't exist. But on that day, you saved my life. You didn't give up. You could've left me for the Basilisk, but you didn't. You wanted to save me. And you did."

The moment Buffy opened her eyes, every memory of the dream awakened hidden aspects of her mind. Every sight, sound and feeling remembered. Most important of all the reverberations still echoed. The whispers, the emotions, the knowledge that filtered through her brain, they all came back and replayed themselves as fresh as they were on that day. After the events of the Chamber, Dumbledore had informed her what he knew after she had recovered from the infirmary, but most of the answers she was looking for couldn't be found. She had so many questions but her mind, the only thing that knew what had really happened, wouldn't unlock the mysteries. A lot of it was still blank, but with this new revelation, with this little piece of information, Buffy was beginning to understand what had happened down in the Chamber of Secrets. How she had gotten there and why she had done the things she did. Why Voldemort had--

"Buffy."

Pulled back to reality. "Huh? Fine. What?"

"What?"

Buffy scoffed out a laugh as she understood the look on Ginny's confused face. "I, uh, spaced, didn't I?"

"Completely."

"Sorry," she smiled. "I'm just, kinda, trying to wrap the brain cells around the whole thing."

"It is a lot to take in, luckily I've had three years to get used to it."

"Cheater," Buffy jokingly sneered, to which Ginny snapped on a perky grin.

"So," she said, relaxing her features to normal. "Seeing as I was conscious for my part, and the last thing I saw of you after I woke up was Harry carrying you out of the Chamber and then rushed off to the hospital wing, what happened after you necessarily had to knock my lights out?"

"Really eloquent aren't you?"

"Surprised you know the meaning of the word."

This time Mr. Cushion had the pleasure of meeting Ginny's face.

"Tell me," she continued undeterred and hugged the violent item to her body as she leaned in eagerly.

"I thought you were sleepy?"

"Stop changing the subject. You woke me up this early, you owe me."

"Guess I do," she nodded. "But, if you wanna know, you might as well say goodbye to the rest of your sleep now."

"We weren't that close anyway."

Ginny was as stubborn as the day was long, and Buffy did wake her up in the middle of the night. Plus the puppy dog expression wasn't helping her restraint.

"Okay, fine . . . "

* * *

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge."

Umbridge sneered at the bright, taunting smile on Buffy's face. Her chipper attitude aggravating every nerve.

"Ms. Summers," she replied curtly.

The grin of victory only widened and remained on Buffy's lips as she moved past the professor, continuing on her way with that Longbottom boy by her side, with an extra spring visibly in her step.

Dolores could feel her blood boil as she watched her. Cornelius's words burned into her frustrations. He had told her that according to his findings, ones that were supposedly brought out by the accused's intake of Veritaserum, Buffy Summers was **not** the vampire slayer. She had **not** been leaving her room at night to hunt the Forbidden Forest. And most importantly and the most irritating, on Cornelius's orders, Buffy Summers was **not** to be singled out for any other reason other than the average student misbehavior. Meaning no talk, accusations or implications of Ms. Summers being a vampire slayer while alone or around others, no accusations or implications of hunting in the Forest without viable proof, and no mention of anything she had just been told. His words were short and strict, showing that he cared very little for how she felt about the situation. Which caused the rage in her to stir even further. She didn't know how she did it, how she had tricked them, but Buffy Summers was not going to get away with this. Cornelius didn't walk these halls every day. Wouldn't step foot into this castle unless some dire emergency came about. He was off in the Ministry miles away. And that knowledge brought comfort to Dolores. For you see, what Cornelius didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Buffy could feel burning eyes on the back of her head. But as smug as she was at the moment, she knew Umbridge wasn't going to give up as easily as being told no to her suspicions. The Old Frog would find a way to kick Buffy out of this school and make her life experience hell while trying. Well game on Umbridge.

"So, how long were you planning to make me suffer?"

Buffy turned around and faced Draco's expectant look.

"Just till this morning."

Neville moved his eyes uncomfortably between the two. Feeling that third wheel feeling.

"I'll, uh, I'll wait for you inside," he said to Buffy, walking past them and into the Great Hall.

"Not very brave is he?" Draco asked smugly.

"No, he just doesn't like you," she shot back. "But who really does."

"You do."

"So, I make you think."

The amused smirk appeared immediately. "Let's see here. Uniform on. School bag over your shoulder. No trunk in sight. Shall I assume everything went well yesterday?"

"No, I'm actually onboard the Hogwarts Express at this very moment. You're just hallucinating. I told you to lay off all that sugar."

"Always gotta be smart don't you?"

"Yes."

They could feel it, but what did they care. Every pair of eyes could stare until the dragon eggs hatched. No more sneaking into empty rooms to have a single conversation. No more private meetings and silent hellos. It was all out in the open now and it was a relief.

A rude body suddenly appeared out of nowhere and stepped in between them, pushing Buffy back a few steps.

"Well, good morning, Pansy," Buffy said cheerily.

Pansy turned back and scrunched her pug nose up in clear disgust. Putting on her best innocent act, she faced Draco again and placed herself as close to him as possible.

"Draco," she said in that whiny voice she thought sounded adorable. It didn't. "You shouldn't stand here all by yourself. Come and sit with me."

Draco folded his arms and rolled his eyes in irritation.

"Pansy, I'm busy talking to Buffy."

"So?" she asked with full on attitude.

"So, it means I'm talking to Buffy. If you want someone to eat with go bother Nott."

Pansy narrowed her eyes at him, huffed out a loud huff, stomped her foot, yes she actually stomped her foot, and clomped away.

"She's a barrel of sunshine," Buffy said watching her, and snapped back to Draco. "Why would you send her to Theodore?"

"Why? Jealous?" he raised an eyebrow, even if he was the one who felt the burst of green at her question.

"No," she said quickly, and then forced her words to come out non-caring. "It's just, that's cruel and unusual punishment, you know siccing Pansy on him like that."

"Uh-huh," he nodded disbelieving, and then decided to change the subject as he was becoming irritated by the current topic. "So, are you going to tell me what happened yesterday?"

"Nothing to tell really. Brief stint of nothingness where I proved my innocence and that was it."

He eyed her suspiciously. "I know you're not telling me everything."

She rolled her eyes up, pretending to mull things over and then nodded. "Good instincts. Go with that," she said, and walked past him and straight over to the Gryffindor table. Leaving him with his questions, which she had to admit, gave her a kick.

Draco watched her go and gave a deep sigh. What was he going to do with that girl?

"Good morning," Buffy greeted cheerfully as she sat down beside Susie.

"You're in an awfully good mood."

"Isn't that like some sort of oxymoron? Awfully good?"

Susie looked at her curiously. "Never mind. You're in a strange mood."

"As long I'm not in a bad mood right?"

The look continued and then slowly Susie shook her head and mumbled to herself. "Very, very strange."

Neville laughed a little to himself, scooping up some eggs from his plate as he thought, _if Susie only knew_.

Breakfast continued and then passed along with the rest of a curious day. McGonagall walked passed Buffy in her class and gave her a discreet pat on the back. Dumbledore smiled and gave her a nod while walking through a corridor. Snape sneered his usual sneer but his eyes conveyed curiosity and questions. And Umbridge continued to look at her with the usual disdain and thorn in her side malice that Buffy was somewhat glad to see. For you see children, those looks proved how deep a chord Buffy had struck in her. Umbridge could no longer hide her distaste for the girl. She could no longer look passive like she had done before. Which all together means, she was breaking Umbridge down.

* * *

"Here."

Harry, Ron and Hermione turned back from their seats on the couch and looked at Buffy's outstretched hand that was directed toward Harry.

"What's this?" he asked, reaching over.

"I go for the chocolate not the extras," she replied, handing him a stack of cards and then simply walking away.

Harry looked at her until she sat down next to Neville, Fred and George on the other side of the room. A little stunned, it took him a while to glance down at the multitude of cards he held and when he did a smile appeared on his face. Just like before, Buffy had saved all of her wizard cards for him. Except now, instead of a nights worth of cards, she handed him almost three years of them.  
"Why would she give you all of her cards?" Hermione asked, all three of them facing forwards now.

Harry didn't reply he just smiled a secret smile as he looked through the deck.

"That's . . . that's . . . " Ron sputtered excitedly, pointing to the card at the top of the stack. "H-Hecate. You got a Hecate card. Do you know how rare she is?"

"It's just a card, Ron," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Just a card," Ron snorted. "I don't know anyone who's ever seen her card, let alone have one. _Just a card_."

Harry ignored the banter, his eyes still on the gift in his hands. It wasn't the overload of collectible cards, which were a great unexpected surprise in itself, but it was the fact that Buffy kept them over the years for the slight chance she would see him again. Kept them because she knew he would want them. He felt the pang of guilt again, the one that was tied to the accusation he had made that she no longer cared for him after she stopped writing. The large deck was proof that she cared about their friendship, that she hadn't forgotten him, and he once again felt like a total git for believing otherwise.

"Harry, it's almost time," Hermione whispered, breaking him out of his inner monologue.

"What? Oh, right," he realized quickly, putting away his books and cards and things. "We should probably head out now, and set things up."

Ron and Hermione nodded and gathered their things. The Trio began to exit the common room, with Harry trailing a little behind as he looked in Buffy's direction, but she was currently wrapped up in a conversation with the boys around her. Boys who were currently making her laugh. His jaw clenched at the sight of it, and for some odd reason he couldn't get out of the room fast enough.

The clock ticked forward and little by little the room began to empty. Pairs and triads _casually_ leaving together for what was supposed to be a nowhere in particular destination. Neville, Fred and George also rose and left Buffy, giving the excuse that Neville had to go to the library to look for a book and the Twins stating they had to head to Filch's office to retrieve some items he had confiscated earlier. Buffy played the dumb bunny and went along with their excuses, and after they had gone she went up to her room to put her things away. Her dorm-mates were off in their secret meeting, it's not like they would notice if she wasn't here. She waited a little longer, until the sky outside grew dark, and then changed out of her uniform into some more active-giving clothes. Covering her slay attire with a large black coat, she closed the drapes around her bed tightly and headed downstairs, where the room was now empty as all the children had gone to their rooms, and then quietly stepped out of the portrait.

"You could at least make sure it was clear before stepping out so boldly," the Fat Lady said behind her.

"Last time I did that you yelled at me for keeping the portrait open for so long," she replied, facing her.

"Excuse me, but I do not yell."

"You so do."

The Fat Lady pushed her chin up and turned the other way. Buffy snorting out a laugh at the sight, and then began to make her way down the stairs.

"Filch's roaming the castle," the Fat Lady said snootily, stopping Buffy in her tracks. "He is currently in the third floor corridor with his cat. Professor Umbridge is in her office but has one of those ornamental plate kittens of hers roaming the frames. An orange tabby. It's being distracted by a ball of yarn in the sixth floor at the moment."

Buffy turned around. "You know, I'm likely to think you're telling me this so I won't get into trouble."

The Fat Lady said nothing else and continued to look away from her. Buffy shook her head and continued her way down the stairs before they started to move. As quiet as a mouse she perked her ears for footsteps and meows. Hid in the shadows and pressed herself against walls until she made it to the ground floor. Then with every ounce of stealth and speed she had, she slipped out of the doors and into the dark winter night. The cold wind whipping against her increasingly becoming rosy cheeks.

"Hello nighttime my old friend."

They were improving. Ever since the news of the Azkaban breakouts everyone had been working harder than before. None more so than Neville. He was learning new spells as quickly as the instructions left Harry's mouth. Almost coming to par with Hermione, which spurred the frizzy brunette further into her competitive zone. As long as they learned the spells, Harry could care less about who would be declared the winner.

Another interesting observation was how Cho kept looking in his direction, batting her eyes and blushing whenever he turned to look at her. As flattering as it was, it was getting irritating that she was more interested in getting his attention than trying to learn the spells. She needed to take this more seriously not just pretend to whenever he passed by. What if one day a Death Ea–a flash of light abruptly zoomed past Harry causing him to jump out of his thoughts and look around for the culprit.

"Sorry, mate."

"Had to wake you up there."

"Before you lost an eye."

"Or an ear."

Fred ad George smirked at him, knowing where his mind was at. If only they knew that Cho's presence in his thoughts was due more to irritation than admiration they wouldn't be so cheeky. He settled for scolding them with his eyes, as that all he was able to do right now, and then called the rooms the attention.

"All right, everyone, good job but let's move onto the next spell," he announced.

The Forest was a dead zone, and not in a good way. It seemed like something had spooked all the demons away, which was no fun. Her first night out in weeks and there was no welcoming party to show up for it. Buffy kicked a nearby rock from her frustrations and finally decided to call it night. Heading back to the edge of the trees, she could make out the castle in the moonlight, casting an ethereal picture.

"Pretty," she mumbled to herself, and continued walking.

And that was when she heard the roar.

Turning around, she came face to face with a seven-foot tall demon covered in black fur. Drool dripping from its lion like mouth while it hunched over on its wolf like legs.

"You know I would come up with a snarky remark right about now, but seeing as it's been a long and slow night . . . "

She went in head first, bending back as the thing tried to take a swipe with its large claw. It roared in frustration and Buffy took a hold of its moment of distraction and threw a punch to the left side of its head before kicking it full force in the abdomen. It stumbled back but recovered quickly and swiped its claw again catching Buffy's upper arm.

"Hey, that was new!" she cried, looking at the bleeding skin now revealed through the tears in her coat. "You are so going to pay for that."

It roared louder with its arms stretched out, and Buffy wasted no time in making good on her promise.

"Good job everyone, you all did great," Harry congratulated and then dismissed. "I guess I'll be seeing you all next time."

The noise rose as everyone began to leave. Excited voices relaying what they had learned today and the amusing mishaps that had occurred. Cho lingered by the doorway until Harry finally noticed she was there, and she smiled that shy, innocent smile as she waved goodbye. Harry feeling his cheeks pink up as he returned the gesture, and causing Ron and Hermione to share an amused look as they cleaned up when they noticed it.

"Everything okay, Harry?" Ron teased. "You're looking a bit flushed."

"Shut up," he said, and then quietly went about putting things away. The image of Cho's smile making his own reappear.

The sharp ground met Buffy's back with a hard thud.

"Son of a--" she began to cry, and rolled to the side just as the demon launched forward.

She jumped to her feet and kicked it on its side, causing it to crash into a nearby tree. She grabbed the knife she kept in her boot and ran forward. Sure a wand would be easier, but sometimes a slayer just needed to get down and dirty. She raised her hand ready to bury it into coarse black fur when the stupid demon just didn't stay down. Very bad dog-creature-thing! Reacting quickly, Buffy lunged the steel forward plunging it into its chest just as a claw scratched her neck.

The creature roared louder than ever, and not wasting anytime Buffy pointed her wand and blew the thing to bits. There was no way she was going to waste her night burying it.

"Well, I wanted some action," she muttered after catching her breath, and then placed a hand on her neck, wincing when she brought it down and looked at the blood on her fingers.

"Is that everything?" Hermione asked looking around the room.

"Yeah, I think so," Ron nodded.

They were the only ones left, which meant they were the last ones out in the castle, which also meant they had to be careful. There was no one keeping an eye on them to make sure they got to their room safely. They grabbed their things, and with Ron leading the way, they headed out of the room. Quietly making their way through the corridor, the Marauder's Map had shown nothing but a clear path before they left. Which if they were to check now wouldn't be so clear anymore.

Buffy winced every time she used her left leg, that dog thing had bitten her calf. Stupid Cujo. She tried to be as fast as her wounds would let her, but she was sure she had doubled her time tonight, especially with the stupid stairs. They had already moved in the wrong direction once, and they were lucky she didn't pound them to rubble before she finally found her floor. Finally with all the gladness in the world, Buffy reached the portrait. She was about to say the password when the Fat Lady opened her eyes and then widened them further at the sight of her.

"Dear girl, are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm-I'm fine," she said, wincing.

"You definitely do not look fine. You should head to the infirmary immediately."

"You know I can't do that. Besides it's not like this is the first night you've seen me like this," Buffy tried to ease. "The bleedings already stopped, and I'll mostly heal by tomorrow. But what would really help me out would be getting into the dormitory like now."

"Yes, yes of course," she nodded and opened the frame straight away.

"Thank you," Buffy said and hurried inside, only to stop in her tracks when she realized that the common room was not as empty as she thought it would be.

* * *

Note: See I updated faster this time :) Thanks a million for all the reviews and for the continued reads.


	50. Chapter 50

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

While the majority of the castle lay asleep one man sat awake in his darkened room. Contemplating a mystery he had been trying to solve for almost three years. Severus Snape was a master of Occlumens and Legilimens, he could access the mind of anyone he pleased. Only those of tremendous power could block his admittance. And also, as it seems, one tiny girl.

The night after the incident of the Chamber of Secrets, Severus had gone into the hospital wing in the dawning hours. Once it was revealed that Ginny Weasley was the only one who was possessed by Tom Riddle's diary, it left him, like so many, with a never-ending stream of questions. As he stood over the small slumbering form of Buffy Summers, he tried to intercept her thoughts to find the answers. But he couldn't. He tried harder. But nothing. She was blocking his entrance somehow. A wall had been placed around her mind that couldn't be broken through. How was she doing it? She didn't have the knowledge or the power to perform such a feat, especially not while asleep. He pushed further and further but the wall met him every time. His frustration grew along with the rising sun, and only when he felt the light against him did he finally relent. There was no more he could do tonight, and he didn't wish to be found here and be asked questions. So, with a heavy mind he left the infirmary, but not for the last time.

He tried again, night after night while she lay sleeping, but had made no progress. He was no further in finding answers now as he was then. The questions burned his curiosity. How was Buffy Summers able to protect her mind so strongly? What had she done? How was she able -- then it hit Severus like a thousand bricks. His body jolting straight in realization, and part of him feared the true answers behind his questions when he finally came close to solving the enigma. Because maybe it wasn't something Buffy Summers had done to herself. Maybe it was something that had been done to her.

* * *

"Oh my . . . "

"Buffy!"

"Buffy!"

"How did this happen?"

"Are you all right?"

"What did this to you?"

"Are you okay?"

"Maybe you should lay down."

"This looks bad."

"Maybe we should get her to Madam Pomfrey."

"At this time of night?"

"She'll get into trouble."

"We'll all get into trouble."

"Guys!" Buffy called out to stop their dizzying words. "I'm fine. Really, it's no big deal."

"No big deal! You look like a walking scratching post."

"You didn't happen to run into a werewolf did you?"

"No," she said, and then remembered the bite on her lower leg. "At least I hope not."

She limped further into the room, arms stretched around her at the ready in case she fell over. She knew they meant well, but being bitten, batter and bruised did have a tendency to put a person into a sour, short-leashed patience kind of mood.

"Guys, really I'm fine," she repeated. "I've had these kinds of wounds before. It was just a little demon that got out of hand. Nothing major."

Four faces immediately panicked. Buffy said demons, it was supposed to be a secret. And when Fred, Ginny, George and Neville looked at each other, not a single one had what was supposed to be a look of surprise, which meant . . .

"You knew?!" They all shrieked so loud at each other that Buffy winced from the noise level, and looked on as four accusing fingers pointed every which way.

"You knew?"

"How do you know?"

"Why didn't you tell me you knew?"

"How long have you known?"

"If I knew you knew I would have told you I knew."

"So all of you know?"

"Who knew first?"

"Maybe they don't know."

"Of course we know."

"Maybe it's a different know than our know."

"All of you know!" Buffy stopped the madness. "To clarify the confusion here, yes, you all know I'm the Slayer, comma, The. Chosen One. She who hangs out a lot in cemeteries. Or Forbidden Forest lately."

"I thought being a Slayer was supposed to be a secret?" asked Ginny, with a raised eyebrow.

"It is but some of you just happened to be in the right place at the right time," she looked at the Twins, "some of you are too smart for your own good," she looked at Ginny, "and the rest of you are just too damn good with the puppy dog eyes," she looked at Neville.

They all had their smug moments plastered on their faces as Buffy walked over to the couch and leaned tiredly against it.

"You know for a person who's supposed to have a secret identity you're not very good at it," said George.

"Story of my life."

Fred opened his mouth ready to say some smartalecky comment when they heard the squeaking of portrait hinges slowly open.

"Who's that?" Buffy asked, and the other four in the room knew exactly who was that.

"Harry, Ron and Hermione," Ginny replied with wide, fear-filled eyes.

Uh-oh, was the common thread of thought and the group shifted panicky eyes to each other.

"We can't let them see her like this," said Neville.

"Right, uh . . . uh . . . " Fred, the self-proclaimed master of getting out sticky situations, stuttered out.

He looked quickly around the room, come on Weasley think. They heard voices now, which means they had only seconds. Oh well, no point in trying to be suave, couldn't afford it, and right before the Trio came into the common room, Fred quickly shoved Buffy to the other side of the couch where she landed in a hard thud.

"What are all of you doing down here?" asked Hermione, as Buffy winced and seethed away from the Trio's view. Thinking of the many ways to torture Fred Weasley.

"Oh, er . . . nothing, you know, just, uh, just talking about . . . " Ginny opened, but had no continuation.

"About, uh . . . " Neville struggled to find a reply, and then all at once he, Fred and George spat out an answer.

"The meeting."

"The weather."

"The meaning of life."

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked curiously at the three but more so to Fred when he spoke his answer.

"The meaning of life?" asked Ron disbelieving.

"What? Am I not allowed to be profound?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, leave it to her brother to complicate things. But having enough time to think she found a sound and sensible way to clean up the situation. "We weren't tired so we decided to hang out here for a while, but we're going to head up to bed in a few minutes."

It was one of those situations when you knew you shouldn't cause it would be bad but it still happened before you could stop yourself.

Of all the times and situations, Trevor had decided to appear out of the dark and in some sick twist of the universe, had decided to hop onto Buffy's bad leg, causing a searing pain that escaped in the form of a small cry from her mouth.

"What was that?" Harry asked, looking past the group.

"What was what?" George asked casually.

"That noise," Hermione replied.

"I didn't hear anything," Fred denied.

"Yeah, it sounded like some sort of wounded animal or something," Ron said.

"Sorry, nope," Fred said, popping the letter 'p' in the last word. "George? Neville? Ginny? Did you hear anything?"

"No," they all said.

They were as believable as a moon frog. Something very strange was happening here. As Harry, Ron and Hermione moved to the right to look at the other side of the couch, Fred, Ginny, George and Neville moved right along with them. When the Trio moved to the left, so did the quartet. All four of them had overly calm looks, and the other three had very suspicious ones.

"Something weird's going on," commented Ron.

"Don't know what to tell ya," Fred shrugged.

The Trio took another quick step to the right, and the quartet matched every inch.

"All right . . . " Hermione said, her eyebrows knitted together, and giving up on the force field. "I guess we'll be heading off to bed then."

The three of them slowly moved to the stairs, constantly turning back to look at the wall that stood over the couch. When they finally disappeared up the stairs, Fred tossed Ginny and George a ball of flesh colored string. Standing by their respective stairs, the Weasley siblings unraveled their individual bunch and with one end of the string in their ears and the other up the steps they listened to any noise that may be too close or coming their way.

"Okay, it's clear now," Fred told Buffy, when Ginny and George gave him the thumbs up.

"What are those things?" asked Neville.

"Extendable Ears," he replied. "You can listen to as far as they extend."

Buffy carefully struggled to her feet and slowly moved towards Neville.

"You're little friend here almost gave me away," she said, handing him his toad. "He pounced on my leg. It wasn't fun."

"Sorry."

"All right let's have a look at you," Fred said, and with his hands on his hips he analyzed her up and down.

"Is my uncomfortableness a factor here?"

"No," he shook his head, and kneeled down to look at the bite on her leg. "Left arm, left leg, right side of the neck, three marks on top of your left eyebrow. The demon really seemed to favor your left side didn't he?"

"Yeah, along with ripping the flesh of my bones."

"Maybe he liked the way you taste," said Neville, which earned him a grossed out look from Buffy.

Fred lifted himself up and retrieved his bag from the nearby chair. Pulling out things that shouldn't have been able to fit there in the first place, he finally stopped when he had a medium-sized jar, a few strips of cloth and Spello-tape in his hands.

"What is that?" Buffy asked, her face scrunched up when he opened up the jar to reveal green goo.

"The reason you never see George and I battered up despite our product experimenting," he winked.

"They've gotten very good at healing potions," Ginny said.

"No other choice," said George.

Buffy didn't like the look of the gloop but she didn't want to wake up with still healing claw marks either.

"All right, guess the proof is in the pudding," Buffy said, and removed her coat and sweater leaving her with a black tank top, and then carefully lifted folded up the left pant leg to her knee.

"What would've happened if you had cuts across your stomach?" Fred asked wiggling his eyebrows.

"I would've taken care of that myself."

"Spoil sport," he muttered, and walked closer to her. "Here Neville make yourself useful," he said, and handed him the pieces of cloth and the tape.

Neville put down Trevor, who soon disappeared into the dark once again, and stood by them within easy reach.

"What were you guys doing down here anyway?" Buffy asked, flinching at the feeling of cold goo against her stinging gashes. "You should've been in bed."

"We were going to, but Fred and George were trying to convince Neville to try their Fever Fudge," Ginny replied. "I stayed to make sure that if he did they didn't leave him that way."

"We would never do that," Fred said, exaggeratingly appalled.

"Yeah, we'd just wait until he passed out," George added.

Neville's eyes widened, they were going to what?

"Thank you," he told Buffy quickly.

"For what?"

"You came in just as I was about to say yes."

As Ginny watched Fred dress Buffy's wounds, she couldn't help but wonder about the other nights Buffy had gone slaying.

"Buffy, I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Are these wounds normal for you after a night out?"

"Normal but not every day," she replied, her head tilted as Fred worked on her neck. "Sometimes I'll be lucky and walk out with just a few bruises. Other times limbs would be broken, clothes would be ruined, and like today, skin would be shredded. But what can I say, it comes with the job. "

"And you still went out every night in Sunnydale?" asked Neville.

"Yeah, but that was a different situation," she replied, readjusting her neck and leaning against the couch as Fred started on her leg. "Sunnydale had a Hellmouth which is like an evil creature magnet. It wasn't just slaying like it is here. There'd be apocalypses, and research, and lots of doughnuts. Also, Sunnydale had a way bigger demon population than Hogwarts does. This place only gets the occasional vampire slash demon, but there's no actual major danger going on."

"If there isn't than why do you still keep going out?" asked George.

"Because even if the castle is heavily mojo protected and no demon army has waged war around these parts, I still don't wanna risk it. Who knows what kind of demon will try to prove his demoness by trying to break through the barriers and might actually end up succeeding. Or what if some wannabe tough kid goes into the Forest and meets a vampire I didn't kill cause I thought, _hey no big bad's risen lately maybe I'll stay in tonight and watch the fireplace_." The last bandage was placed and Fred rose to his feet. Every wound had been taken care of. "Besides, being a slayer gives you an over-excess of energy when combined with the extra slayer sense of demon beware, can make me a little restless sometimes."

"So, in other words," Fred said, putting away his items. "It's all about relieving your conscience and fixing your boredom."

"Pretty much."

Most of the bandages disappeared as she readjusted her clothing, with the strip on her neck and left eyebrow being the exception.

"Thanks," she told Fred.

"As long as it means taking off your clothes, anytime," he winked.

"I think they're probably asleep now," Ginny said, referring to the Trio.

"I should still give it a few minutes," Buffy replied. "Who knows? Maybe Hermione stayed up to do homework or something."

"Wouldn't put it past her," George said.

"But you guys should go to bed, I'm sure you're all pretty tired from the meeting."

"Speaking of, when we gave you one of our coins we thought you'd put it to better use," said George.

"You gave her one of your D.A. coins?" asked Neville.

"Only because of a big mess of a conversation where I told them I was the slayer because they were too stubborn and evil to let the subject go, they told me about the meetings, which I already knew cause let's face it, you guys aren't as sneaky as you might think," Buffy responded. "Anyway, they gave me one of their coins just in case I decided to drop by."

"Which you never did," Fred pointed out.

"Yeah, well it was either that or slay. I chose slay."

"So if you go out on the nights we have our meetings aren't you risking running into members of the D.A. that don't know why you would be walking around the castle so late?" inquired Ginny.

"Most likely, but the meeting-nights are the only nights I can sneak out without my roommates wondering where I'm going or suspicious when I'm not back before curfew," she replied. "I can get away with pillows under the covers and the drapes shut around the bed if they decided to snoop when they got back. But I usually try to stay out as late as I can or be back early. Trouble today was that your D.A. business just ended a little late tonight and I couldn't really do much in the state I'm in, aside from luring in vampires which I really didn't feel like doing."

As they listened to her explanation they all wondered how many times any of them had come back from a meeting just as Buffy slipped into the dormitory? Or lay asleep in bed as she risked her life battling demons and vampires; coming close to death but slipping away just in time. It brought a whole new perspective on how they saw her. She has faced death more times they were sure they ever will yet she was able to keep on smiling and live life like the Grimm Reaper wasn't waiting for her every time she voluntarily went into the Forbidden Forest at night. A single girl about the size of a broomstick, who not only put her life on the line because it was her destiny, but because of the very slight chance that someone will get hurt if she didn't at least try. It wasn't extraordinary. It wasn't remarkable. It was heroic.

"So, what'd you guys learn today?" Buffy asked cheerfully, standing there like she had just walked in from a bright sunny morning. Unaware that the bonds she shared with these four people had become just a little stronger.

* * *

The hallways were clean. The students were properly dressed. Behavior was improving. Never let it be said that one person can't make difference.

The click-clacks of Umbridge's pink heels brought shivers down the spines of everyone she passed. She smiled at each and every student, who in return forced a smile back and walked away as fast as their legs would carry them. The clipboard was of course in her hands which she scribbled some nonsense into every few minutes. Everything was going well. The students finally seemed to have grasped the meaning of order and--

The heels stopped instantly. The clipboard pressed firmly into her tightened fist. Spinning around Dolores Umbridge faced the wall outside of the Great Hall. The one that held all of the Educational Decrees, where every single frame was straightened and placed in precise and perfect order. Until today.

Every decree was uneven and jumbled out of place. Number fourteen was placed where number six should be. Number twenty was in place of number sixteen. Number four was down by twenty-two and so on . . . and so on . . . and so on!

Everything was out of place. There was no-no organization. No structure. No regulation! NO ORDER!

The sudden sound of a wooden clipboard breaking in half echoed along the walls. Startling the many people passing by. And when everyone turned to look at Professor Umbridge all they could see was her blue and purple face clashing against her pink suit.

While up the stairs, on the fourth floor, the mischievous one responsible for all the disarray sat calmly near a window innocently writing a letter to her friends.

"Last minute assignment?"

The familiar heart-skip made its appearance inside Buffy's chest.

"Not even close," she replied, looking at Theodore as he sat down in front of her.

"Mind if ask?"

"Not really. It's just a letter to my friends abroad. Updating them on the on goings of my drab little life."

"Nothing about you could ever be drab, Buffy," he said, the sexy little side smirk on his face.

The blush sweetly covered her cheeks. "So, what, um, what brings you here?"

"You."

"Me?"

There was that smile again. "Be my date for Valentine's Day."

There was no question to his words. But then he really didn't need to have one. They had been flirting off and on since the day they had started talking again. All the signs were there. The mutual attraction. The stir of post-pubescent feelings. The butterflies and all. So it was only natural that Buffy would say . . .

"Okay."

Theodore may be overly confident in most areas, but he was unsure if Buffy would've agreed to his Valentine's request. He figured most guys would have asked her by now, seeing as most guys talked about her. Her transformation had brought a lot of male attention. Most of, if not all of it really. And just because she was oblivious to it, doesn't mean everyone else was. As a matter of fact there were certain individuals who were acutely aware of that attention, and that despised it to no end. And come Valentine's Day those individuals were going to be seeing a kind of red that had nothing to do with the holiday.

* * *

Note: Getting better on the updates, definitely feeling that inspiration streak :) Thanks everyone again for the reviews, the lovely, addictive, must-have reviews. No matter how many times I say thanks it never seems like enough though.

By the way, I was going to update yesterday but the fanfic website was down and wouldn't let me :(


	51. Chapter 51

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

Valentine's Day. The day of candy, flowers and heart-shaped everythings. The day when girls had high romance expectations and the boys were pressured to meet them. That day had arrived on a cold February morning as the students of Hogwarts fluttered nervously and excitedly around their rooms, getting ready to meet their significant others for what was planned to be an amorous and memorable Hogsmeade visit.

"You're going to be cold," said Ginny, looking at the item on the bed.

"No, I won't," Buffy denied, looking through her trunk and pulling out various things. "It's all about layering Ginny. See you've been brought up to believe you only need large items to keep warm, but in reality you don't. It's not about function over fashion. It's about making fashion functional."

She grabbed her items and walked around to the other side of the bed, where the curtain had been pulled across the entire way.

"You say that now, just wait till you get out there."

"You sound like my mom. No wait, you actually sound like your mom."

"No need to be mean about it."

Minutes later Buffy walked around the bed and stood beautifully in her functional fashion; clothed in a form fitting, long sleeved, sweater dress the color of snow white, with tall black boots covering her legs that reached the very edge of the snowy hem.

"You're going to be cold," Ginny repeated.

"It's all about layering," she said again. "See." And she pulled up an inch of the dress to reveal gray, woolen tights. "And I'm also wearing socks, and a knitted slip."

"You're just not going to listen are you."

"Not when I'm right."

Buffy picked up her red wool coat and black gloves from atop of the bed, gave her soft makeup and shiny hair one last check and headed to the door.

"You're so lucky you get to go," Ginny said, as they walked out. "I can't believe Angelina wants us to practice on a Hogsmeade weekend of all weekends."

"She just wants to get you guys ready for the Hufflepuff match."

"Yeah, but it still bites."

She was about to agree when Ginny's last word seeped in. "Wait, did you just say 'bites'?"

"Yeah," she said her tone still morose. "I blame you."

The girls made it down the stairs and split ways when they exited the portrait. Ginny's shoulders still heavy as she dragged off. Buffy on the other hand was in great spirits. She was going on a date. Something she hadn't been on in a while. She was moving forward, that was the plan after all, but guilt couldn't help but make its presence; no matter how small it was. Angel was still out there and here she was going on a date with someone else-- someone who wasn't him. But Buffy had read all the articles and experienced the heartbreaks to know that relationships were tricky things, getting over them was even trickier.

As she walked toward the front entrance of the castle Buffy noticed Theodore currently surrounded by three boys and not in a friendly way. Two of which looked like walking boulders and the third displaying a very recognizable hair color. What the hell was Draco up to now?

"Hi," she greeted, when she arrived on what looked like an inquisition.

When Draco turned around, he felt the air get stuck in his throat. Quickly he coughed to ease the block and acted like Buffy's exuberantly lovely presence didn't affect him at all.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked pointedly to Mr. Malfoy.

"No," Theodore was the one to answer and walked to her side. His careless attitude differing those around him.

He took the coat from her hands and extended it out, waiting for her to place her arms in before releasing it.

"Careful Mr. Nott being a gentleman gets you everywhere," she smiled, and Draco didn't like that smile or the one Nott gave in return.

"Ready?" Theodore asked, offering his arm.

"I'm all yours," she replied, and slipped herself right in. "See you guys later."

The pair walked away and settled right into the exiting line, leaving a seething Draco to stare after them, and be irked even more when a certain whiny voice made its presence.

"Draco," Pansy shrilled. "Why didn't you wait for me?"

He didn't look at her, just kept staring at Buffy and Nott as they talked and smiled. "You said you were going to try to look your best."

"So?"

"I don't have that kind of time, Pansy," he said evenly and left her standing.

The blood shot up her system and pounded against her head; the color pressed against her skin and stopped its flow in her fisted hands. Damn that Buffy Summers!

_Do you think you could meet me in the Three Broomsticks around midday?_ It was Valentine's Day; he had a date, why would Hermione need to meet him today? And why had she been so urgent about it? No matter how well he thought he knew her, Hermione appeared to surprise him at certain turns. Harry shook away his questions and curiosity, at least for the moment, as he made his way to the front doors. He had enough to be anxious about as it is. Once he reached the entrance, he found that Cho was waiting for him, looking pretty with her hair up in a long pony tail.

"Hi," she smiled.

"Hi," he nervously smiled back; they stared momentarily at each other before Harry spoke again. "Well - er -- shall we go, then?"

Cho nodded and they joined the queue of people being signed out by Filch. As they stood quietly next to each other, Harry glanced down the line and his eyes spotted lovely strands of blonde hair. Next to someone with black hair. He stretched out his neck and discovered Buffy's companion to be Theodore Nott. The same Theodore Nott who gave her pastries and made her smile and flirted with her. Harry felt his stomach clench and a streak of irritation pulse through his veins. His green eyes watched them all the way out and the burst of startling cold air was the only thing that brought him out of his stare. The line of students spread out and many slowed down their steps to enjoy the freedom of the day-- Buffy and Theodore included, who lingered farther behind from their original spot. Harry could see them clearer now and when he saw Buffy he felt the air thin around him. The red coat and white dress brought out the loveliness in her. Beautiful didn't seem to be the right word. She looked more delicate than that. She looked . . . very pretty.

"Potter and Chang!" Pansy's screeching voice brought him out of his admiration. "Urgh, Chang, I don't think much of your taste . . . at least Diggory was good-looking!"

The gaggle of Slytherin girls that followed Pansy shrieked in laughter.

"All alone on Valentine's Day Pansy?"

The laughter died away and Pansy set her cold eyes on Buffy, who had slowed down her pace and was now walking next to Harry and Cho, hand in hand with Theodore.

"If you must know, Draco's waiting for me in Hogsmeade," she lied snootily.

"Oh really, so that's not him over there," she said, and pointed off to the side where Draco and his cronies were picking on a third year Ravenclaw.

"Guess he must've forgot," Theodore said.

Pansy nearly growled. Another boy Buffy had influenced with her so-called innocent act.

"Did he Pansy?" Tracey's empty head dared to ask.

"Shut up," she spat and stormed off, the girls running after her.

When Harry turned to Buffy, ready to thank her, he noticed that she and _Theodore_, what kind of name is Theodore anyway, had already walked ahead. Snuggled extremely close together.

"She's so different now," Cho commented.

"Who?" he asked, slowly tearing his away and focusing on her.

"Buffy Summers," she replied. "She used to be so mean and spiteful, but now . . . she seems really nice. Is she?"

"Yeah, she is. She's different now."

"Maybe you should ask her to join the D.A."

Harry had in fact considered that but always ended up the same conclusion. He didn't know if he should. It wasn't that he didn't trust her, which he was still teetering on the edge of, but it was the distraction she would provide. Ron would complain and Harry would worry that he might do something stupid if she was there. Neville would be her partner and the Twins would try to get her attention at all times, for some reason Buffy had a tendency to bring out the extra prankster in them. Harry would worry that if he paid too much attention to Buffy, seeing as she would be new, Cho would get the wrong idea. There was a lot to consider, most of it caused by his own personal reasons, which inevitably stopped him from asking. Harry Potter never figured himself for a petty kind of guy.

Cho didn't say anything else when Harry didn't respond and they both walked quietly the rest of the way. Upon reaching Hogsmeade Cho tentatively broke the silence when she asked where he wanted to go first, to which Harry said he didn't know and mirrored the question back to her. Finally, they decided to walk around high street for a bit as neither could think of anything else to do.

They wandered toward Dervish and Banges. A large poster had been stuck up in the window and a few Hogsmeaders were looking at it. They moved aside when Harry and Cho approached and Harry found himself staring once more at the pictures of the ten escaped Death Eaters. The poster, _By Order of the Ministry of Magic, _offered a thousand-Galleon reward to any witch or wizard with information leading to the recapture of any of the convicts pictured

"It's funny, isn't it," said Cho in a low voice, gazing up at the pictures of the Death Eaters, "remember when that Sirius Black escaped, and there were Dementors all over Hogsmeade looking for him? And now ten Death Eaters are on the loose and there are no Dementors anywhere . . . "

"Yeah," said Harry, tearing his eyes away from Bellatrix Lestrange's face to glance up and down the High Street. "Yeah, that is weird."

He wasn't sorry that there were no Dementors nearby, but now he came to think of it, their absence was highly significant. They had not only let the Death Eaters escape, they weren't bothering to look for them . . . it looked as though they really were outside Ministry control now. The ten escaped Death Eaters were staring out of every shop window he and Cho passed. It started to rain as they passed Scrivenshaft's; cold, heavy drops of water kept hitting Harry's face and the back of his neck.

"Um . . . d'you want to get a coffee?" said Cho, as the rain began to fall more heavily.

"Yeah, all right," said Harry, looking around. "Where?"

"Oh, there's a really nice place just up here; haven't you ever been to Madam Puddifoot's?" she said brightly, leading him up a side road and into a small teashop that Harry had never noticed before. It was a cramped, steamy little place where everything seemed to have been decorated with frills or bows. Harry was reminded unpleasantly of Umbridge's office.

"Cute, isn't it?" said Cho happily.

"Er . . . yeah," he lied.

"Look, she's decorated it for Valentine's Day!" said Cho, indicating a number of golden cherubs that were hovering over each of the small, circular tables, occasionally throwing pink confetti over the occupants.

They sat down in the last remaining table, near the steaming windows, and the awkward silence of a first date soon covered them. Harry looked around the room and noticed that mostly, if not all, the couples were holding hands. He saw Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, with a pretty blonde girl sitting in the next table, holding hands and being completely syrupy. And three tables away there was another pretty blonde girl.

Buffy and Theodore seemed to be the only couple not holding hands and acting as though they were completely wrapped up in the spirit of the day. They were three tables down and one over. Harry faced Theodore's back but he could see Buffy as clear as day. Once again he couldn't help but notice how lovely she looked in her white dress. She must've felt his eyes on her, because she turned to him and smiled. He smiled back and for some reason felt his cheeks go warm, and that's when he looked away.

Buffy would've never picked this place as a Theodore kinda spot, but as it turns out, he visited it every time there was a Hogsmeade weekend for one reason and one reason alone.

"The pastries," he had told her when she asked.

"So what, you'd come in here by yourself, sit in a little corner somewhere and stuff yourself with pastries?"

"Yes."

And when Buffy had that first taste of her Banoffee pie she got the full understanding of why and made a note to never question his food places again.

They had been one of the first ones to arrive and when Madam Puddifoot saw them she immediately doted over Theodore. He was polite but like all things with Theodore, was also very brief. She had brought them over plates and plates of goodies and their very own always, hot coffee pot. She had also removed the cherubs from their table when Theodore had asked her to and Buffy was very grateful for that. Pink confetti was not a good addition to their consumables. Madam Puddifoot doted over Theodore a little more before she told them to enjoy themselves, don't hesitate to ask for anything and then flitted away as more students came arrived.

The conversation flowed easily, retelling past memories and catching up on things since the last time they really spoke. While everyone around them fell into the lovey-doviness of the day, they felt no pressure to be holding hands over the table or stare longingly into each others eyes. And that was exactly what Buffy needed.

When the bell over the main door rung again, announcing the presence of a new arrival, Buffy glanced up and saw Harry and Cho stroll in, Harry looking like he had just walked into Umbridge's office. He was wearing a very nice shade of dark blue and she got an unexpected tingle in her female hormones at the sight of him. She cleared her throat and the feeling passed.

"Your friends sound interesting," Theodore said, and it took a second to remember what he was talking about.

"Yeah, they can be," she smiled.

"It must've felt weird living like a muggle."

"It was. At first. But you get used to it and then it's not so bad," she shrugged. "I mean, television was a major plus, a-and movies and telephones, that was definitely a perk right there."  
"I should probably give it a try sometime."

"Highly recommended."

Buffy could feel Harry looking in her direction; she turned to him again and gave a friendly smile to ease his being caught. He smiled back but by the sudden flustered look of his cheeks she knew she had not eased anything. He quickly looked down and that was that. Strange thing was, whatever she had felt stirring before was not there now. Now he was just Harry. Weird.

Cho had ordered coffees when Madam Puddifoot came by their table, and in the time it took for them to arrive they both sat in uncomfortable silence. Harry and Cho trying to ignore the loud kissing going on the next table. Cho once again broke the quiet barrier and brought up the subject of Umbridge, and vilifying the woman caused happy minutes to go by. But that didn't last. And once again silence sat at their table. Harry was very conscious of the slurping noises coming from their neighbors and cast wildly around for something else to say.

"Er . . . listen, d'you want to come with me to the Three Broomsticks at lunchtime? I'm meeting Hermione Granger there."

Cho raised her eyebrows. "You're meeting Hermione Granger? Today?"

"Yeah. Well, she asked me to, so I thought I would. D'you want to come with me? She said it wouldn't matter if you did."

"Oh . . . well . . . that was nice of her."

But Cho did not sound as though she thought it was nice at all. Her tone was cold and all of a sudden she looked rather forbidding. A few more minutes passed in total silence, Harry drinking his coffee so fast that he would soon need a fresh cup. And beside them, Roger Davies and his girlfriend seemed glued together at the lips.

"He asked me out, you know," Cho said in a quiet voice. "A couple of weeks ago. Roger. I turned him down, though."

Harry wondered why she was telling him this. If she wished she were sitting at the next table being heartily kissed by Roger Davies, why had she agreed to come out with him then? Their cherub threw another handful of confetti over them; some of it landed in the last cold dregs of coffee Harry had been about to drink.

"I came in here with Cedric last year," said Cho. In the second or so it took for him to take in what she had said, Harry's insides had become glacial. He could not believe she wanted to talk about Cedric now, while kissing couples surrounded them and a cherub floated over their heads. Cho's voice was higher when she spoke again.

"I've been meaning to ask you for ages . . . did Cedric - did he - m - m - mention me at all before he died?"

This was the very last subject on earth Harry wanted to discuss, and least of all with Cho.

"Well - no -" he said quietly. "There - there wasn't time for him to say anything. Erm . . . so . . . d'you . . . d'you get to see a lot of Quidditch in the holidays? You support the Tornados, right?" His voice sounded falsely cheery. To his horror, he saw that her eyes were swimming with tears again, just as they had been after the last D.A. meeting before Christmas.

"Look," he said desperately, leaning in so that nobody else could overhear, "let's not talk about Cedric right now . . . let's talk about something else."

But apparently that was the wrong thing to say.

"I thought," she said, tears spattering down on to the table, "I thought you'd u - u - understand! I need to talk about it! Surely you n - need to talk about it t - too! I mean, you saw it happen, d - didn't you?"

Everything was going nightmarishly wrong; Roger Davies's girlfriend had even unglued herself to look round at Cho crying.

"Well - I have talked about it," Harry said in a whisper, "to Ron and Hermione, but -"

"Oh, you'll talk to Hermione Granger!" she said shrilly, her face now shining with tears and everyone was beginning to stare. "But you won't talk to me! P - perhaps it would be best if we just . . . just p - paid and you went and met up with Hermione G - Granger, like you obviously want to!"

Harry stared at her, utterly bewildered, as she seized a frilly napkin and dabbed at her face with it.

"Cho?" he said weakly.

"Go on, leave!" she said, now crying into the napkin. "I don't know why you asked me out in the first place if you're going to make arrangements to meet other girls right after me . . . how many are you meeting after Hermione?"

"It's not like that!" said Harry, and he was so relieved at finally understanding what she was annoyed about that he laughed, which he realized a split second too late was also a mistake. Cho sprang to her feet. The whole tearoom was quiet and everybody was watching them now.

"I'll see you around, Harry," she said dramatically, and hiccoughing slightly she dashed to the door, wrenched it open and hurried off into the pouring rain.

"Cho!" Harry called after her, but the door had already swung shut behind her with a tuneful tinkle.

There was total silence within the teashop. Every eye was on Harry. He threw a Galleon down on to the table, shook pink confetti out of his hair, and followed Cho out of the door. It was raining hard now and she was nowhere to be seen. He simply did not understand what had happened; half an hour ago they had been getting along fine.

"Women!" he muttered angrily, sloshing down the rain-washed street with his hands in his pockets.

The teashop remained quiet after the scene while pink confetti continued to be showered over their heads. Slowly the shock wore off, the murmurs and whispers rose, 'what did he do?', 'why was she crying?', and as if a spell had suddenly been cast upon them, the couples glued their hands together again and drowned themselves in sugar filled emotions.

Buffy stared at the door a second longer than everyone else, her friend attachment to Harry causing small worry for his emotional well being.

"That was interesting," Theodore commented flatly.

"Nothing like a little drama to round out a Valentine's Day," she joked with no real spark.

"That's what makes it memorable."

He smiled his Theodore smile and Buffy suddenly forgot past events and the rest of the people around her.

Harry knew he was early but decided to wait out the rest of the time in the Three Broomsticks, hoping there would be someone there to talk to until Hermione arrived. He found Hagrid in a corner with fresh new cuts and bruises, and when he sat down to talk to him Harry also found that Hagrid may have drunk one too many firewhiskys. He rambled on about family and so on with a morose and slurred voice. He must've had enough to drink, or felt too uncomfortable when Harry pressed on about his wounds, because after sharing a conversation Hagrid stumbled up from his chair and out of the pub. Something wasn't right with the half-giant, but no matter how hard Harry tried, it seems that whatever was happening to him, Hagrid was determined to go through it alone.

"Harry! Harry, over here!"

Hermione was waving to him from the other side of the room. He got up and made his way through the crowded pub. He was still a few tables away when he realized that Hermione was not alone. She was sitting at a table with the unlikeliest pair of drinking mates he could ever have imagined: Luna Lovegood and none other than Rita Skeeter, ex-journalist on the Daily Prophet and one of Hermione's least favorite people in the world. And if that hadn't been a large surprise in itself, after he took a seat at their table, with Hermione's stern expression, Rita's soured, resentful one, and Luna's distracted usualness, he was informed that he was finally going to be able to tell his side of the story. The Quibbler was going to publish the truth-- his truth, and for once, since the whole madness had started, Harry was going to be able to do things on his terms.

The sun lowered on another Hogsmeade weekend and the students slowly made their way back to the castle, despite the still downcast of rain.

"This was pretty genius of you."

Theodore didn't say anything and kept holding onto the large umbrella over their heads with his left hand while he held Buffy's hand with his right; the couple quietly making their way up the path. The overload of silence would've felt strange, especially since Buffy was a well-known talker, but she knew that this was just Theodore's way. Never said any more than was necessary. And it was good to not feel the need to talk sometimes.

There was a fair amount of noise coming from just outside the castle. The sounds of mud being sloshed around and the sounds of taunting being heard.

"You want to stop it don't you," Theodore said, noticing the look on her face.

"Kinda feel like I should."

He gave a nod and with the umbrella over their heads they walked over to Draco, Crabbe and Goyle currently picking on a boy from Hufflepuff.

"So, is this how you spread the love?"

The mud flinging ceased and when Draco and his boys turned to Buffy and Theodore, the boy took that window of opportunity to run away.

"Isn't that what Valentine's Day is all about," Draco said, his eyes coolly looking over them. "I'm just celebrating the holiday."

"Physically apparently," she said disapproval in her tone.

His eyes rested momentarily on the couples interlocked hands. "Apparently."

He was acting peculiar. His jaw was set and his neck was strangely stiff.

"Have a nice time in Hogsmeade?" he glowered.

"We did," Theodore replied.

Draco scoffed. "I bet you did," he mumbled. He glanced at Buffy and then walked away with his boys following after.

"He was weird," she muttered concerned, her eyes still on his retreating form.

Theodore only shrugged and gently pulled her up the path again. She noticed how very strange they had acted with each other before and after the trip, well not strange really, more like hostile.

"What's going on between you two?" she asked.

_Nothing until that morning_. "He's very protective of you did you know that?"

"Draco?" Her voice sounded surprised. "Well, h-he's always had this kind of wanting to be the Superman to my Lois deal."  
"What?"

"He was always trying be all overprotective."

Buffy tried tuning down the pop culture, since no one here knew what the hell she was talking about most of the time, but she had successfully brainwashed herself from cell to cell to completely let it go.

"He proved that today. He told me to be careful."

"Careful? Of what?"

"That's all he said. My assumption is to be careful with you."

Curiouser and Curiouser.

"And what did you say?"

_You can't expect to be selfish Draco. Not this time_. "Told him that maybe you didn't want careful."

She smiled at the wicked look in his eyes. "Boys."

When they were only steps away from the main doors, Theodore suddenly pulled Buffy aside to a private little spot. He silently placed his hands on her face and Buffy could feel the blood rush out of her head at what she knew what was to come. She closed her eyes and felt every nerve on her lips as he melded his lips against hers. His kiss was soft and passionate, representing every ounce of Theodore himself. Gently he pulled away, with his hands still on her face, as his eyes roamed over her features.

"I've wanted to do that for a very long time," he said in a near whisper.

Her heart pitter-pattered. "Then we better make up for lost time." And she kissed him again, making the world disappear.

The common room was littered with people and noise. The fire warming the vast space as the rain continued to pour outside. Most of these things and more were muted to the background when Buffy walked in. Her mind was naturally somewhere else.

"Is that a smile I see?"

When Buffy awakened from her cloud nine she looked toward the questioner and found Ginny in her pajamas and freshly washed. She also found her self standing in the middle of the room without even realizing she had gotten there.

"Maybe."

"I'm guessing you had a wonderful time today?"

"Maybe."

"No, no, no there will be no maybes. I've had a hard day of practice and you had a date in Hogsmeade. So no maybes," Ginny sternly said.

"Okay," Buffy relented, smiling. "No maybes."

Harry could feel a vein on the back of his neck twitch. He was sitting in between a studious Hermione and an exhausted Ron and near enough to the two girls that he could clearly hear everything they said. Everything! And that was the problem. He had a horrible date with Cho and Buffy had such a wonderful time Theodore. A bloody wonderful time.

"He was really sweet and super nice, total heartthrob worthy," Buffy excitedly relayed. "Of course he always has been so no big surprise there. It wasn't all fireworks and stuff but he's not really like that you know, it was calm and comforting and just so . . . fresh."

_Fresh?_

"Fresh?"

"It's hard to explain but trust me it fits."

What was there to explain? Harry stumbled upon girls talking about boys every once in a while, but he had never once heard any of them explain their relationships or whatever there was of them as fresh. What an odd thing to say.

"Okay so it's fresh, doesn't matter, here comes the real and most important question." Ginny nearly busted with natural girl giddiness. "Was there an end of the date kiss?"

Harry immediately stopped every move, breath, and pretext; waiting intently for the answer.

The smile made its bright appearance to confirm what she had yet to say. "Yes."

Ginny grinned and Harry felt the vein twitch harder.

"Hey," Neville said after walking through the portrait and to the two girls he had grown extremely attached to.

"Hey," they chorused back.

"Good Hogsmeade?" Ginny asked, to which he nodded.

"Good practice?" he inquired.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Depends on your definition of good."

There was no more talk of Theodore and Harry was extremely grateful to Neville for that. Slowly the common room emptied out as the sun set on another day. Faces washed, teeth brushed, and covers pulled, the majority of the castles occupants lay in their beds asleep with visions of hearts and flowers dancing in their heads. Owls swooped over the calm grounds, their hooting sounds providing a strange sort of lullaby. The rain had ceased but had left behind a mossy smell that filled up and settled restless lungs. Soft breezes would slip through the trees every now and then making the leaves move like the keys on a piano. It was all so calming, a scene that embodied serenity.

Buffy lay restless, her wide open eyes staring out the window; watching an owl fly past every so often. Today had been a wonderful day. She had moved on like she had promised herself, but in this dark and quiet room, away from noise and distraction the wonderfulness sobered and her eyes couldn't help but shed a few lone tears. Her heart was healing, little by little the wounds were closing, but there was still hurt and loss beating in her chest. First love was the hardest love to get over, and the first steps in moving on weren't going to be easy ones. Grief had to be felt and shed, but those tear streaked nights were getting less and less. However, it was a different kind of sadness tonight, and these tears were not of sadness but of admittance; tears of surrender. Her heart released the last string of hope. It needed to be done, there was no other way to fully move on. Love was no longer cemented to one person anymore. It was free to possess someone else now. And that scared the hell out of her.

* * *

Note: Took a little longer this time, but here it is! Thanks to everyone for the reviews, reads and continuation of tracking this epically long story :) It's not easy trying to fit Buffy and the Buffyverse into the Potterverse and still make it sound somewhat flowy, but the lovely reviews *hint* ;) *hint*, make it fun. So billions of millions of thanks.


	52. Chapter 52

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

Luna didn't know how soon Harry's interview would appear in the Quibbler, as her father, the editor in charge, was expecting a lovely long article on recent sightings of the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, and that was of course much more important. Harry couldn't deny he was anxious to see his words in print, and what kind of reactions he would receive. Though he assumed they would be the same as the ones he's been getting since he started saying Voldemort was back – that he was barking mad. He did get bouts of support from the people he told about his interview with Rita Skeeter. Neville and Dean congratulated him on putting the truth out there when he told them during dinner Monday night, while Seamus, who was a person away from Harry, didn't say anything but was no doubt listening when Harry had caught his eyes flitting in his direction every so often. For someone who doubted Harry's claims, Seamus sure did seem interested in the details of them.

The Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff match was nearing closer and closer, and Buffy, Neville and Luna saw Ginny less and less. Angelina seemed hell bent on pushing the team to their limits, and whatever small free time Ginny had she spent with Michael on his whiny insistence. Quite a catch wasn't he? The Quidditch practices were getting harder and harder Ginny had mentioned on a fleeting moment, but according to Fred and George (who sneaked a peak on those practices every so chance) it wasn't really doing them any good. Apparently the entire lot was rubbish without Fred, George and Harry, well except for Ginny, who the Twins had found out had been breaking into the broom shed in the Burrow since she was six and practicing on each of her brothers' brooms whenever she had the chance, impressing Fred and George with that bout of knowledge, who weren't always so easily impressed. She was a good player and a good Seeker, but she was no Harry. And the Quidditch team could apparently use a Harry right now.

Game day had soon arrived, and with all the talk of the team's lack of skills, the Gryffindors sat nervously in their seats waiting for it to begin. No more so than the friends of the Gryffindor Keeper. As Harry and Hermione looked for spots, dread couldn't help but fill their stomachs and anxiety pump through their veins. If what Fred and George had told them were true, Ron was not going to come out of this jumping with joy.

"There's a spot over there," Harry said, pointing ahead.

A slight noise of uneasiness escaped past Hermione's lips. "Next to Buffy."

And it caused an eye roll from her companion. "It's either that or we keep looking, Hermione."

Hermione definitely didn't want to keep looking. Her nerves were already on edge. She just wanted a nice place to rest in.

"Oh, all right, come on."

Buffy was in the company of Neville and Luna, who were sitting in that order next her. She was currently facing away from the field as she and little Susie Lore traded snacks back and forth.

"I thought you hated Jelly Slugs?" asked Susie.

"I don't hate 'em, I'm just not a real big fan, but Neville likes them."

"Neville," Susie called out to him, and when he tuned back she put the candy in his hands free of charge.

"Th-thanks," he smiled.

"Hey! How come he gets a freebie?"

"Cause I like him," she said, then stuck out her tongue.

"So, we're playing favorites now?"

"Yes."

"Okay," Buffy nodded, and turned to the little blonde girl beside Susie. "Here Lizzie, you can have my Chocoballs."

"Hey!" Susie cried out as Lizzie took the bag and immediately popped one in her mouth.

"Not so nice is it?"

Harry cleared his throat as he and Hermione arrived just beside the quibbling pair, who turned up to them expectantly.

"Mind if we sit there?" Harry asked, pointing to the empty space beside Buffy.

"It'll cost you," she replied.

"How much?" Harry played along.

"Two galleons."

"How about a licorice wand."

"Deal."

He handed over his payment and he and Hermione settled into the bench. The opposing teams came flying into the field not too long after and immediate cheers came from the stands. Buffy handed Susie her bag of Droobles and then swung around to face the field. She was calmly enjoying her licorice wand when she caught sight of a bright pink hat a few rows down, her eyes narrowed and she pulled out the licorice from in between her bite so harshly that it made a small snapping sound.

Harry heard the noise and noticing her extremely irritated expression followed her line of sight and soon he too felt the bubbling of annoyance in his blood.

"What she doing sitting here?" he spat.

"Who?" Hermione inquired, and he jutted his chin over to Umbridge causing Hermione's face to immediately frown.

"She's here because she knows we'll hate it," Buffy replied. "Which you know, we do."

The whistle blew and the game began. And it was all pretty much downhill from there. On Ron's fifth failed safe, Umbridge turned to Harry with a gloating smile on her mushroom face. But Buffy wasn't going to have any of that. She waived excitedly to the woman with a cheerful smile like she had ingested too much sugar. Instead of giving a fake little smile in return, Umbridge scowled and snapped back around. With her hands firmly grasping the edge of the bench, Buffy smugly leaned back with a little secretive smirk tugging at her lips.

"Why'd you do that?" asked Harry, and when Buffy turned to him all she did was wink.

She leaned over to Neville and whispered into his ear and when she was done he secretly rummaged through his pockets. Buffy then moved back behind him and quietly said something to Luna. The Ravenclaw whispered back in Buffy's ear and Buffy nodded every so second as it continued, after a minute the girls moved back to their original inconspicuous positions and Neville slipped something into Buffy's hands.

"Be cool," she whispered to Harry, and before he could ask why, she flung her hand forward, took out her wand, mumbled something under her breath and guided what looked to be yellow dust over Umbridge's stout form. The Toad sneezed twice but didn't turn around.

"What was that?" Harry asked.

"Just a little essence of sunflower."

Hermione let out a small gasp of surprise when she heard and then a suppressed snort. When Harry turned to her, he saw that she was pressing her lips firmly closed together. Trying to keep what looked to be laughter in.

It started out with one bee, then two, and soon Umbridge was trying to fight off six. But then it wasn't just bees anymore. A bird had flown just above Umbridge's pillbox hat, eliciting a yelp from the woman. Then another bird swooped down. Then another. Muffled giggles and laughs were being made by everyone who was in visual distance. It was definitely a sight to be scene. Umbridge waving her little purse around, trying to swat away the birds and bees with such panicked frenzy, it was beyond words. But not as much as what happened next. Just as Ginny had grabbed the Snitch from underneath Hufflepuff Seeker Summerby's nose, a bird had dropped a little smelly white/green/brown present all over Umbridge's head. The cheer from the crowd was so loud after that, one would be lead to believe that the Gryffindors were the ones that had won instead of Hufflepuff.

"How long have you been planning that?" Harry asked, recovering from his laughs.

"Planning what?" Buffy asked innocently.

He looked at her strangely for a second but quickly chuckled and shook his head. She definitely knew how to play the part.

After Umbridge had run screaming out of the stands, and the game was called, did the staff and students clear out. The short twenty-two minute game had been a memorable one that much was true. But unfortunately for some those memories had nothing to do with Umbridge getting pooped on.

The Gryffindor common room had the appeal of a funeral parlor that evening. Hardly anyone spoke as there was really nothing to celebrate.

"Good catch," Harry told Ginny, as he wandered over to where she was standing with Buffy and Neville.

"I was lucky," she shrugged. "It wasn't a very fast Snitch and Summerby's got a cold, he sneezed and closed his eyes at exactly the wrong moment. Anyway, once you're back on the team--"

"Ginny, I've got a lifelong ban."

"You're banned as long as Umbridge is in the school," Ginny corrected him. "There's a difference. Anyway, once you're back, I think I'll try out for Chaser. Angelina and Alicia are both leaving next year and I prefer goal-scoring to Seeking anyway."

Harry looked over at Ron, who was hunched in a corner, staring at his knees, a bottle of Butterbeer clutched in his hand.

"Angelina still won't let him resign," Ginny said, as though reading Harry's mind. "She says she knows he's got it in him."

Harry liked Angelina for the faith she was showing in Ron, but at the same time thought it would really be kinder to let him leave the team. Ron had left the pitch to another booming chorus of _Weasley is our King _sung with great gusto by the Slytherins, who were now favorites to win the Quidditch Cup.

"I haven't even got the heart to take the mickey out of him," said Fred, looking over at Ron's crumpled figure, after he and George drifted over.

"I know I'm not exactly a Ron expert here, 'cause you know with him hating me and all, but maybe leaving him alone right now would be the best medicine," Buffy recommended.

"And never mentioning the game again," George added.

"Cheers to that," said Harry solemnly raising his bottle, and the others halfheartedly doing the same in agreement.

Ron dragged himself up to bed shortly after this. Out of respect for his feelings, Harry waited a while before going up to the dormitory himself, so that Ron could pretend to be asleep if he wanted to. He moved his attention back the little gathering and when he saw Buffy sipping her Butterbeer he was suddenly reminded of other events that occurred during the game.

"So, essence of sunflower," said Harry.

Her lips were still touching the top of the bottle when she smiled, and glancing over to Neville she noticed he had the same look of gaiety on his face.

"Essence of sunflower?" asked Ginny.

"What are you talking about?" inquired Fred.

"It's what Buffy had sprinkled over Umbridge during the match," Harry replied, unable to keep the grin from his lips at the wonderful memories of Umbridge acting like a maniac. "Right before the birds and bees started to attack."

"That was you?!" Fred and George asked Buffy with pointed fingers.

"Not completely," she said, and proudly looked to Neville. "It was a total team effort."

"Way to go, Longbottom!" Fred congratulated, throwing an arm over his shoulders.

"Didn't know you had it in you," said George.

"Okay, I'm completely confused as to what's going on here," Ginny said. "What's this about Umbridge and bees and birds and sunflowers?"

"Well, Ginny, it seems that while you were just fluttering about the field," Fred said, earning a glare from his sister, "Ms. Summers and Mr. Longbottom here--"

"And Luna," Neville interrupted.

"Really? There's a surprise, good for her! Back to my point, Ms. Summers, Mr. Longbottom **and** Ms. Lovegood had the very brilliant idea of giving Ms. Dolores Jane Umbridge just some of what she deserved."

"By dousing her with sunflower essence."

"Which I'm assuming attracted the birds and bees."

"Which caused them to buzz, buzz, buzz and chirp, chirp, chirp all around her."

"And she screamed and yelled and danced around trying to shoo them away."

"All of it ending in the grand finally of my now favorite animal, the pigeon, placing his bird droppings all over Umbridge's head."

Fred and George sighed, concluding as one, "It was beautiful."

"And I missed it?" Ginny mildly outraged.

"You caught the Snitch," Harry said.

"It's not the same. I would've rather seen Umbridge get pooped on."

Can't argue with that.

When Harry finally entered the dormitory Ron was snoring a little too loudly to be entirely plausible. Harry got into bed, thinking about the match. It had been immensely frustrating watching from the sidelines. He was quite impressed by Ginny's performance but he knew if he had been playing he could have caught the Snitch sooner . . . there had been a moment when it had been fluttering near Kirke's ankle; if Ginny hadn't hesitated, she might have been able to scrape a win for Gryffindor.

Thoughts of the game brought thoughts of Umbridge's gloating smile and it made him feel hot with anger as he lay there in the dark. After a few minutes, however, he remembered that he was supposed to be emptying his mind of all emotion before he slept, as Snape kept instructing him at the end of every Occlumency lesson.

He tried for a moment or two, but the thought of Snape on top of memories of Umbridge merely increased his sense of grumbling resentment and he found himself focusing instead on how much he loathed the pair of them. Slowly, Ron's snores died away, to be replaced by the sound of deep, slow breathing. It took Harry much longer to get to sleep; his body was tired, but it took his brain a long time to close down.

He dreamed that Neville and Professor Sprout were waltzing around the Room of Requirement while Professor McGonagall played a bagpipe of sunflowers. He watched them happily for a while, then decided to go and find the other members of the D.A. But when he left the room he found himself facing, not the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, but a torch burning in its bracket on a stone wall. He turned his head slowly to the left. There, at the far end of the windowless passage, was a plain, black door. He walked towards it with a sense of mounting excitement. He had the strangest feeling that this time he was going to get lucky at last, and find the way to open it . . . he was feet from it, and saw with a leap of excitement that there was a glowing strip of faint blue light down the right-hand side . . . the door was ajar . . . he stretched out his hand to push it wide and --Ron gave a loud, rasping, genuine snore and Harry awoke abruptly with his right hand stretched in front of him in the darkness, to open a door that was hundreds of miles away. He let it fall with a feeling of mingled disappointment and guilt. He knew he should not have seen the door, but at the same time felt so consumed with curiosity about what was behind it that he could not help feeling annoyed with Ron . . . if only he could have saved his snore for just another minute.

* * *

_BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS _

_Any student found in possession of the magazine The Quibbler will be expelled. _

_The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven. _

_Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor_

The sign had been posted all over school. Just the wondrous reaction Hermione had been hoping for.

"Oh, Harry, don't you see?" Hermione breathed. "If she could have done one thing to make absolutely sure that every single person in this school will read your interview, it was banning it!"

The Quibbler had come out that morning. The front page screaming (not literally) _SPEAKS OUT AT LAST: THE TRUTH ABOUT HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN_ in large red letters across Harry's sheepishly smiling picture. He had received owl after owl from people who had read the article. Some were great saying how they believed him now that they've heard his side of the story, but others, many others, recommended a good long stay in St. Mungo's. The best reaction he had to say came from Umbridge. Even if she had given him a week's worth of detention and had taken away fifty points from Gryffindor, okay maybe that part wasn't so great but still the memory of her splotchy, violet face when she read the interview was proof enough that he did the right thing.

Even if Harry had not seen one corner of the paper after it had been named forbidden, he heard everyone talking about it. There were whispers everywhere he went. And after Hermione had been cornered in one of the girl's bathrooms being asked question after question about the interview, was she absolutely sure that people were honestly starting to believe that Harry had been telling the truth all along.

Meanwhile, Umbridge relentlessly stalked the school, stopping students at random and demanding they turn out their books and pockets looking for the funny little newspaper that had become an over-morning sensation. But the clever students were several steps ahead of her. The pages carrying Harry's interview had been bewitched to resemble extracts from textbooks if anyone but themselves read it, or else wiped magically blank until they wanted to peruse it again. Soon it seemed that every single person in the school had read it. Even the teachers, and although they were forbidden to mention anything about the article, they each had their way of congratulating Harry.

Professor Sprout awarded Gryffindor twenty points when Harry passed her a watering can; a beaming Professor Flitwick pressed a box of squeaking sugar mice on him at the end of Charms, said, "Shh!" and hurried away; and Professor Trelawney broke into hysterical sobs during Divination and announced to the startled class, and a very disapproving Umbridge, that Harry was not going to suffer an early death after all, but would live to a ripe old age, become Minister for Magic and have twelve children. Quite a fortune he had there.

The next day Cho had tearfully apologized for behaving the way she had on Valentine's Day and called his interview brave right before giving him swift kiss on the cheek that made his insides all gushy. The next few bouts of good news lead with Seamus when he had told Harry he believed him and had sent a copy of the Quibbler to his mam, and continued when he entered the library later that day to find Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle glaring at him; Goyle cracked his knuckles threateningly and Malfoy whispered something undoubtedly malevolent to Crabbe. Harry knew perfectly well why they were acting like this: he had named all of their fathers as Death Eaters.

"And the best bit," whispered Hermione gleefully, as they left the library, "is they can't contradict you, because they can't admit they've read the article!"

To cap it all, Luna told him over dinner that no issue of The Quibbler had ever sold out faster.

"Dad's reprinting!" she told Harry, her eyes popping excitedly. "He can't believe it, he says people seem even more interested in this than the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks!"

Harry was a hero in the Gryffindor common room that night. Daringly, Fred and George had put an Enlargement Charm on the front cover of The Quibbler and hung it on the wall, so that Harry's giant head gazed down upon the proceedings, occasionally saying things like 'THE MINISTRY ARE MORONS' and 'EAT DUNG, UMBRIDGE' in a booming voice. Hermione did not find this very amusing; she said it interfered with her concentration, and she ended up going to bed early out of irritation. Harry had to admit that the poster was not quite as funny after an hour or two, especially when the talking spell had started to wear off, so that it merely shouted disconnected words like 'DUNG' and 'UMBRIDGE' at more and more frequent intervals in a progressively higher voice. In fact, it started to make his head ache and his scar began prickling uncomfortably again. To disappointed moans from the many people who were sitting around him, asking him to relive his interview for the umpteenth time, he announced that he too needed an early night.

"Looks like you're the big man around these parts now."

He stopped right before he landed the first step on the stairway and turned around.

"I wouldn't say that exactly," he said, lifting the right corner of his mouth sheepishly. "Did you...did you read the interview?"

"Every word," Buffy nodded curtly. "It was good. Takes a lot of guts to put yourself out there like that. You did good, Harry."

He smiled. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

As she stood there with the warmth he had first been introduced to one dark night, he felt the pull in his insides. The rope that had connected them through months and months of written words. He had told her once that she had the ability to understand in a way that no one else could, and he knew that she offered that understanding whenever he needed it.

"Buffy," he said stepping closer to her, just enough so that when he spoke it wasn't for the whole room to hear. "Have you ever done something you knew was the right thing to do, but doing it was a lot harder than you thought it was going to be?"

Buffy's system froze momentarily as those aforementioned somethings zoomed around her brain. "More times than I can count, why do you ask?"

"Well . . . it's just . . . the interview with Rita . . . it was a lot harder than I thought it was going to be," he said with a drained note. "Remembering everything, every detail, I-I mean I've talked about that night before but this time, with Rita pressing for everything I can think to remember . . . "

"It brought up all the little things that you didn't let yourself remember before and it wasn't so easy."

He lowered his eyes and exhaled a loud sigh. "Yeah."

"Harry," she said, placing a hand on his upper arm causing his eyes to rise to her. "Nothing about what happened that night is going to be easy to talk about, and that's okay. What you've done, letting everyone else in on what you saw, it was really brave. I think that's why a lot of people are starting to believe you now. It takes a lot of courage to do something like that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He gave a grateful little smile and after Buffy showed her your welcome one, she released his arm. "You should probably get to bed. Been a long day and I'm pretty sure you're beat from all the praise and glory."

"Well, it does take a lot out of a person to be admired."

"Yeah, I wouldn't know about that."

Midway up the stairs Harry felt the pain return to his scar. The dormitory was empty when he reached it. He undressed and got into bed, wishing his headache would go away. He also felt slightly sick. He rolled over onto his side, closed his eyes, and fell asleep almost at once . . .

He was standing in a dark, curtained room lit by a single branch of candles. His hands were clenched on the back of a chair in front of him. They were long-fingered and white as though they had not seen sunlight for years and looked like large, pale spiders against the dark velvet of the chair. Beyond the chair, in a pool of light cast upon the floor by the candles, knelt a man in black robes.

"I have been badly advised, it seems," said Harry, in a high, cold voice that pulsed with anger.

"Master, I crave your pardon," croaked the trembling man.

"I do not blame you, Rookwood," said Harry in that cold, cruel voice.

He relinquished his grip on the chair and walked around it, closer to the man cowering on the floor, until he stood directly over him in the darkness, looking down from a far greater height than usual.

"You are sure of your facts, Rookwood?" asked Harry.

"Yes, My Lord, yes . . . I used to work in the Department after - after all . . . "

"Avery told me Bode would be able to remove it."

"Bode could never have taken it, Master . . . Bode would have known he could not . . . undoubtedly, that is why he fought so hard against Malfoy's Imperius Curse . . . "

"Stand up, Rookwood," whispered Harry.

The kneeling man almost fell over in his haste to obey. His face was pockmarked; the scars. He remained a little stooped when standing, as though halfway through a bow, and he darted terrified looks up at Harry's face.

"You have done well to tell me this," said Harry. "Very well . . . I have wasted months on fruitless schemes, it seems . . . but no matter . . . we begin again, from now. You have Lord Voldemort's gratitude, Rookwood . . . "

"My Lord . . . yes, My Lord," gasped Rookwood, his voice hoarse with relief.

"I shall need your help. I shall need all the information you can give me."

"Of course, My Lord, of course . . . anything . . . "

"Very well . . . you may go. Send Avery to me."

Rookwood scurried backwards, bowing, and disappeared through a door. Left alone in the dark room, Harry turned towards the wall. A cracked, age-spotted mirror hung on the wall in the shadows. Harry moved towards it. His reflection grew larger and clearer in the darkness . . . a face whiter than a skull . . . red eyes with slits for pupils . . .

"NOOOOOOOOO!"

"What?" yelled a voice nearby.

After falling from his bed completely entangled in the hangings and regaining clarity, Harry realized that the voice nearby was Ron. All of it was a dream-- no not a dream, he had been inside Voldemort's mind, he knew that for a fact! The white skin and red eyes staring back it him were too horrid to be a nightmare. Harry had been inside Voldemort's mind. Learning things he was positive Voldemort hadn't wanted to him to know.

* * *

"So that's why they killed him," Hermione said quietly the next day. "When Bode tried to steal this weapon, something funny happened to him. I think there must be defensive spells on it, or around it, to stop people touching it. That's why he was in St. Mungo's, his brain had gone all funny and he couldn't talk. But remember what the Healer told us? He was recovering. And they couldn't risk him getting better, could they? I mean, the shock of whatever happened when he touched that weapon probably made the Imperius Curse lift. Once he'd got his voice back, he'd explain what he'd been doing, wouldn't he? They would have known he'd been sent to steal the weapon. Of course, it would have been easy for Lucius Malfoy to put the curse on him. Never out of the Ministry, is he?"

"He was even hanging around that day I had my hearing," said Harry. "In the - hang on . . . he was in the Department of Mysteries corridor that day! Your dad said he was probably trying to sneak down and find out what happened in my hearing, but what if-"

"Sturgis!" gasped Hermione, looking thunderstruck.

"Sorry?" asked Ron bewildered.

"Sturgis Podmore -" said Hermione breathlessly, "arrested for trying to get through a door! Lucius Malfoy must have got him too! I bet he did it the day you saw him there, Harry. Sturgis had Moody's Invisibility Cloak, right? So, what if he was standing guard by the door, invisible, and Malfoy heard him move - or guessed someone was there - or just did the Imperius Curse on the off-chance there'd be a guard there? So, when Sturgis next had an opportunity - probably when it was his turn on guard duty again - he tried to get into the Department to steal the weapon for Voldemort - Ron, be quiet - but he got caught and sent to Azkaban . . . "

She gazed at Harry.

"And now Rookwood's told Voldemort how to get the weapon?"

"I didn't hear all the conversation, but that's what it sounded like."

"Rookwood used to work there . . . maybe Voldemort'll send Rookwood to do it?"

Hermione nodded, apparently still lost in thought. Then, quite abruptly, she said, "But you shouldn't have seen this at all, Harry."

"What?" he said, taken aback.

"You're supposed to be learning how to close your mind to this sort of thing," said Hermione, suddenly stern.

"I know I am, but -"

"Well, I think we should just try and forget what you saw," said Hermione firmly. "And you ought to put in a bit more effort on your Occlumency from now on."

Harry was so angry with her he did not talk to her for the rest of the day, which proved to be another bad one. When people were not discussing the escaped Death Eaters in the corridors, they were laughing at Gryffindor's abysmal performance in their match against Hufflepuff; the Slytherins were singing _Weasley is our King _so loudly and frequently that by sundown Filch had banned it from the corridors out of sheer irritation. And he wasn't the only irritated one. Before Filch had forbidden it another person had decided they could take no more. The song was like someone poking you in the arm over and over again and earlier that day Buffy had enough.

"Will you just shut up!" she yelled at the group of singing Slytherins behind her. "_Weasley is our King Weasley is our King_– it's stupid! It's a stupid song, and you know what, it's not even funny."

"Isn't that sweet Summers is--" Pansy snootily began to say.

"It wasn't funny the first time you sang it off key and it isn't funny now. So stop it! You know for people who say they don't like the guy you sure do seem to talk about him a lot– and god just . . . get a life already!"

Everyone within earshot remained frozen in shock as Buffy briskly walked away. The Slytherins had in fact shut up and Ron didn't know what to think. She could've ignored it or laughed at him, everybody else was, but she didn't. Why didn't she?

"That was . . . " Ron trailed off, still watching her retreating form.

"Surprising," Harry finished.

He nodded. "Yeah."

The wheels were backpedaling just a little bit in Ron's head, Harry could see it. And it was a very good sign. "She does that a lot."

"What?" Ron asked, facing him. "Yell at people?"

"Surprise," he corrected, but come to think of it . . . "And yell at people."

Things were beginning to change. With every new day and with every new experience Ron could longer fight the fact that Buffy Summers was no longer the same cold-hearted girl he used to know. Her friendships with Draco and Theodore still left him unsure, but not once had he seen her talk to any other Slytherin. In fact she was rightly rude to them when they stepped out of line, as proven minutes ago. And by what he had seen with his own eyes, it seemed that everyone else was warming up to Buffy. Dean and Seamus had been talking to her during lunch a few days ago. Parvati had spoken to her a few times in the common room. The only person who seemed to be holding to any grudge was himself . . . and Hermione. But even she wasn't as resolved with her anger anymore. She didn't talk to Buffy, but there were no more cold stares or cold shoulders. When Buffy was around Hermione acknowledged her existence which was a big improvement from pointedly ignoring her. Why was it that Ron's past hurts would not release themselves from their chains? Why couldn't he move forward? Because she was hiding something, he's instincts knew that. And as long as that secret was sealed in her, Ron couldn't forgive and forget. Because Ron from so many first hand experiences how dangerous keeping secrets could be.

_Weasley is our King, Weasley is our King, He always lets the Quaffle in, Weasley is our–_damn it! That stupid song was stuck in her head like a broken record. Ugh! What was the point of telling them to shut up when she was going to keep humming it anyway? But then why had she told them to shut up in the first place? It was easy to say because the tune was just plain old annoying, but in retrospect, there seemed to be more to it. Okay, so she knew Ron had this burning yen to see her get her butt kicked two ways from Sunday but seeing him with his beaten down expression and big puppy eyes, added to the horrible games he's been having and his lack of self esteem which was nearing extinction, her pro humanity heart couldn't let Slytherin bring him down any further. It would be mean to just sit by, but she knew it wasn't pity she had felt, it was . . . empathy. Empathy for Ron Weasley whom she had tortured for two years and had every right to never forgive her. Which was a little frustrating seeing as most of his family considered her part of theirs, his best friend was one of her friends, they shared the same living quarters, classes and general space, and no matter how much time they've spent around each other he still hasn't tried to at least give her a chance to make amends. Why was there empathy again?

Her emotions felt jostled as she walked past the oaks and sycamores of the Forest. The irritation of the song, the confusion of how to feel about Ron, the frustration of her homework and lessons, the slayer sense tingling . . . the slayer sense tingling!

Buffy immediately slid the wand from her waistband and set her muscles to spring ready. She moved stealthy amongst the dry leaves and fragile sticks. Her ears absorbing every noise while her preternatural sense reached out with radar precision. She raised her right hand at the ready when loud footsteps soon came behind her. Whoever or whatever that was wanted their presence known. Stupid move. Buffy pivoted around . . . and the burning surge of infuriation flowed in every vein.

"Spike," she spat past clenched teeth.

A cloud of smoke hovered around black leather and pale skin. "Hello cutie," he smirked.

* * *

Note: HARRY POTTER AND THE HALF BLOOD PRINCE!!! And thank you for much to everyone who reviewed and continues to read.


	53. Chapter 53

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

"Hey!"

A muffled exclamation went through the hand Spike was using to cover his now bloody nose.

"Get out of here, Spike."

Is that how she said hello to people? Whatever happened to manners? Grunting, Spike discreetly readjusted the bones and removed the hand from his face as he sniffled. "Why? I like it here." Then wiped his upper lip. "Lots of trees. Fresh air. Plenty of innocent students to eat." With another fist Buffy broke the bones in Spike's nose with another crack. "All right. That's enough!" he growled punching her in the jaw. "Time for old Spike to have a go."

Buffy recovered quickly, backhanded him and kicked him in the stomach, sending him backwards to the ground.

"How do you like your 'go' now?"

Growling low in his throat, Spike stormed in and in a flurry of fists and furry old enemies beat their feelings towards each other out.

Recuperating from a kick to her side, Buffy quickly blocked his left hit with her right arm but didn't have time to react when his next attack hit her bull's eye in the stomach sending her flying back, crashing against a tree.

"That's more like it," he smirked, sauntering a few steps forward. "What's the matter, pet? Off the mainland making you soft around the edges?"

Buffy straightened and ran in full force, throwing two quick punches and connecting her left heel sharply against his thick head causing him to fold over.

"What are you doing here, Spike?" she demanded, raising her wand-infested right hand like it was a stake. "The welcome mat is for the soul bearing only."  
"Is that why you left the poof?" he taunted, after readjusting his posture. "Come halfway across the world to get away from your demons. Or demon."

It would've hurt, stung deeply if it wasn't for the fact that closure had already been made. If Buffy and Angel hadn't already talked and had come to an understanding. All those words did was annoy her. Everything Spike did annoyed her.

"All except for the one I hate the most," she sneered. "Leave. Now," she ordered, tired of playing cat and mouse and just wanted him gone.

"Struck a chord did I?" he baited

"The only thing you struck was my last nerve. Now go away," she said strongly. "Thought you'd be sniffing and groveling after your ex like a cat in heat right about now. Unless she came to whatever sense she has left and realized she could do . . . well anything's better than you really." Ice covered her taunts and Spike's face tightened. "I bet she doesn't even care about you. Not one thought in her brainless head about poor old Spike as she gets passed around like a goody bag."

"Shut you gob." Look who struck a chord now.

"I did hear she was kinda fickle."

"Shut up!"

He stormed at her but the only hit he got was the ground against his face as Buffy grabbed a handful of his shirt and slammed him down.

"You're pathetic," she spat. "You're not even a loser; you're a shell of loser."

Spike sprang up and roared with flying fists. He managed to get a few good hits before giving a strong blow that left Buffy stumbling.

"It's your fault! You and that poof of yours. She belongs with me!" he exclaimed, as Buffy regained her balance. "And I'm going to get her back, just you watch."

Buffy rolled her eyes and let her arms hang at her sides realizing that the only kind of fighting that was going to happen now was Spike wrestling her patience.

"You're saying this like a care. I can't even begin to describe how much I *don't* care. You can knock her over the head and drag her to your cave as long as it's miles away from here. This place is permanently off limits."

"Says who? The blokes in the castle up there?" he said adding a quick nod up the way. "I could kill every student that comes in here and there'd be nothing they could do to stop me. Bleed 'em dry if I wanted to." There was malice in his voice. Hunger and darkness in his focused eyes as he stared at the stone building. Warily Buffy waited, ready just in case she needed to spring into action, but being the bipolar creature that he was Spike snapped back to reality and said with careless attitude . . . "but that's not why I'm here."

They should really make special blood flavored mood stabilizers. "Than what are you doing here?"

"Following a trail."

"A trail?"

He turned up his face and with closed eyes took a deep sniff of the air. "Dru's been here."

And the world stopped.

Buffy's eyes immediately widened. Fear setting bitterly into her system. Drusilla had been here, roaming the forest freely while she had been laying clueless in her bed. How long had Drusilla walked among these very trees? How many nights were the students of Hogwarts in danger? How long had she been so damn ignorant?

"Drusilla was here?" she asked, her voice near panic.

"No need to get your knickers in a twist," he replied. "The trail's cold. I'd say it's been about two weeks since she last saw the stars from this place. She's long gone by now."

Why . . . Luna! Had she been here because of Luna? Did Drusilla know about her? What if she did? What if she had come here to kill her? Or worse, came here to turn her into one of them? The crazy vampire was always going on about family. What if she was growing tired of trying to morbidly piece back together her old one and was looking to create a fresh new one by starting out with a person who was already of her own blood.

"Why was she here, Spike?" she demanded. "Why would Drusilla come here?"

"Lived on the Hellmouth and you still don't get it do you?" he snickered.

Buffy grabbed him by the collar and slammed against a tree; his head bouncing harshly off the bark.

"Listen, I don't have time for this you git! Tell me what the bloody hell Drusilla was doing here or I'll show you your spine from the inside out."

So far Buffy had subconsciously laid her Britishness to rest with her American accent coming naturally at Spike's presence. But of course this would undoubtedly slip sooner or later, especially when she was blinded with rage and her patience was wearing thin. The customary British slang came out seamlessly along with her British accent, something Spike picked up on quickly.

On his short-term stop in Sunnydale, Spike had been aware of the fact that Buffy was no longer prowling the Hellmouth. There had been a new slayer in town. A doe eyed brunette who wore leather in all the right places. Eaves dropping had its perks, and the slayer's little friends spilled about her seemingly permanent vacancy when they thought he wasn't around. He figured she would've gone to Los Angeles or some other part of the country where the sun shined bright all year around. Not once did he expect to find her here, but with her slip of the tongue, things seemed to be falling into place.

"Well this is news innit?" he grinned arrogantly, despite being violently manhandled. "Slayer's a Brit. Right down to the bloodies and gits."

Buffy slammed him against the trunk again and Spike started to see stars.

"Patience not your friend here," she warned. "Now I'm going to say this really slow, 'cause to be honest, this information is the only thing keeping you alive. So what. Was. Drusilla. Doing. Here?"

"Why do you think?" he slithered in a tone just above a whisper, a little irritated that she hasn't figured it out. She managed to foil his plans at every turn in Sunnydale, proving she had brains in there and for some ungodly reason she couldn't figure out why Dru had come here. Why any other soulless creature came here. How she managed to live this long he'll never know. "Why do demons go to the Hellmouth? Why do they visit the Forest? Use your head, slayer."

If she wasn't so wrapped up in the riddle she would've staked him right then and there. Why couldn't he just tell her? Why'd he have to be such a bloody Nigma about it? Buffy picked every cell in her brain and turned up blank, but she could feel it. The answer was frustratingly there somewhere. Staring her in the face like the carrot before the donkey and yet she couldn't grab it.

"Power," he added up for her, the word chillingly accompanying the wind that caressed by them. "It's all about power and this place is dripping with it."

A cold feeling settled into her soul. That's not what she wanted to hear.

Buffy slowly let go on the hold she had on him and stepped back. Her eyes traveling over to the castle as every thought wrapped around the revelation. She could fight every night until her knuckles bled dry, but what would be the point. They'd keep coming and coming, because the students and staff of Hogwarts were magnets that only attracted the worst of hell because of magic. Because of who they were. It was unfair to them. And it sucked for her. She had tried to escape it, traveled miles away but apparently this place was no different than Sunnydale.

"What did you expect, luv," Spike said appearing beside her, his eyes on the castle. "Magic's trembling all over this place and every demon jonesing to get off comes stomping 'round in here. That's why the heads up there don't want curious little nobodies strolling through. They know the score. Demons go where the powers pouring. And here, this place, is like a siren call. Can't help themselves. They need to get their rocks off where they can."

His words sunk in and Buffy turned at him. "You make Hogwarts sound like a demon crack-house."

"Right down to the beakers, pet."

She gave him a look, tacking on an, "Ew."

Spike shrugged and walked closer to the edge, right to the invisible line that separated the danger from the safe. Buffy trailed him step for step, trusting him as far as Pansy could throw him. His eyes wandered from top to bottom, left to right, seeing something that couldn't be seen. With an open palm, Spike steadily moved his hand through the air, unwavering until . . . ZAP! Purple and blue sparked right in the middle of where his hand met nothing.

"See that," Spike said, looking at his hand that had emanated a light wisp of smoke just seconds ago. "No worries. The bits are tucked in nice and tight up there."

Buffy always knew there some sort of force field around Hogwarts, she had just never seen it in action. Going by the before example it seemed to work like an invisible-magical/electrical fence that surrounded the grounds, zapping away anything that tried to intercept it. Nifty.

"Nothing can get past that. Can't get in without an invitation," he went on. "Not just vamps. The wands in charge discriminate against the pulse and no-pulse alike. All the unfriendlies. A little overboard if you ask me."

"Said the cold-blooded murderer."

"Only cold blooded until the next warm body comes along," he said with a bloodlust leer.

She scrunched up her face. "You're disgusting."

Spike ignored any comeback he might've had and slipped a cigarette out from the pack inside his coat pocket and sparked it.

"So," he said after exhaling a thin slip of white smoke. "Little Miss Priss is a witch. Toil and trouble right with the cauldron bubble. Can't say I'm surprised."

She wasn't sure why, maybe because it was a Spike thing to do, but she felt offended. "Meaning?"

"Always did act like you had your wand in a twist." And then he leered. "Or were desperately in the need of one."

A Spike thing to do.

"You're a pig," she said, for something to say more than anything.

He took the cigarette out of his mouth. "Minger," he shot back.

Excuse me. "Berk."

"Slag."

"Tosser!"

"Cow!"

And a punch to his jaw she gave. "In case you didn't catch that, I violently dislike you."

Spike placed a hand to his jaw to make sure it was still in working order and then gave a sly smile.

"But you can't keep your hands of me can you, pet?"

He pushed on purpose, and she knew that but it worked anyway. Buffy tightened her fist along with her expression and with an elegant swish aimed her wand straight shot at his face.

"Whoa," he said raising his hands, the cigarette dropping to the ground. "All right, all right no need to get shirty."

"You know I'm having a really hard time trying to find reasons NOT to kill you."

"If you really wanted to kill me you'd've already done it," he cockily said. Buffy pushed the tip of her wand into his cheek and a gulp went down his throat. "Or not."

She pushed the wand deeper into his skin. Her mind focused on all the many little spells that could end her vampire problem, which was unwise as it kept her focus away and distraction at the forefront.

Spike continued eye contact, his senses making him aware of how vulnerable she appeared to be at this moment and with a quick swipe of his right foot he had bent Buffy's legs out from under her and she collapsed to the ground.

"Can't put too much stock into that stick of yours," he said, moving back as she rose to her feet. "You should know better than that," he added in an admonishing tone akin to that of a teacher's.

She _should_ know better than that, she *did* know better than that, but Spike threw her through a loop that consisted of mental warfare of whether to kill him or not, which always resulted in not and she never knew why.

"Well, as much fun as this was, I'm off," he said, still heading backwards to the darkness of the forest, "I got a little lady out there in the world to find, can't keep her waiting ya know."

He was already feet away when he turned his back and headed deeper into the trees.

"Good." If she was too far away to physically hit him she wasn't going allow him the last word, no sir. "Make sure the branches hit your ass on the way out."

Spike paused, pondered, plastered a smirk on his face and slowly turned around.

"On second thought," he said, and casually leaned against a tree crossing his arms over his chest, "this place is kinda . . . neat. Maybe I'll stick around. See what the wizards got to offer a curious bloke like me."

"Spike," she said in warning, which only seemed to encourage the vampire's mischievousness instead of waning it.

"Might run into one of your fellow classmates trying to prove how big their brass ones are by coming in here. Might be fun."

A red light zoomed right above his platinum head, and if he hadn't ducked in time it would've zoomed right through his brain.

"Do you need me to spell it out for you again?" Buffy asked, the wand still pointed out and ready.

Spike stood up and looked at the charred wood. Smoke still flowing from the burned spot as he placed the tips of his fingers over it. Still hot. The morbid smile came to his face and he faced the girl with the magical wand. Oh the fun it will be.

"See you around, pet," he said and then he was gone, melted into the darkness, and disappearing from sight.

Buffy lowered her wand but did not relax the anger from her face. Why? Why? Why didn't she ever just kill him?

The whole night was a spoil. There had been no vampires dusted, no monsters beheaded and to top it off the one person, if he could be considered a person, she loathed to no end had come to stomp on her what was becoming near rosy life; to stay for an undetermined amount of time apparently. Jerk. But there was one thing, one small but very big thing that had been reaped from the muck. Hogwarts was safe. The students and staff were protected by the magical barrier that surrounded them. There was no major worry to be had, not like she was used to, not like she had originally thought before Spike had proved the security measures that stood outside of Hogwarts were completely stellar. This _was_ different than Sunnydale, where the only thing that separated the mostly innocent from the very evil was her; there was definitely no buffer zone only a Buffy. But none of that here, the head honchos had seen to that which was a major relief. Of course that's not to say she'll stay indoors from now on either. A slayer had too much energy to burn, and too much evil was sensed from these woods to ignore. Besides, Spike had said he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. And she couldn't just let him wander around, who knows what kind of trouble he'll cook up when left to his own devices. Nope, her late night activities couldn't be given up. Besides, it's not like she had anywhere else to go to, there was no Bronze or happenin' spot nearby. What fun the wizards be, right? So, guess all that was left was to hunt and kill demons. 'Cause, what else was a lively teenage girl to do at night?

* * *

"Uh, Buffy. I think the bad eggs are dead now."

The fork was deep into the scrambled and salted bits of yellow and white when Buffy stopped her attack and looked up to Ginny's wondering face.

"What's wrong?" asked Neville, leaning over the crossed arms that he had rested on the table.

What's wrong? Spike is what's wrong. Stupid bleach-blonde blood-sucker.

"Too much salt," she muttered and dropped the utensil into her plate.

"That's why the eggs had to die?"

"Yes."

Ginny and Neville quickly connected troubled eyes and looked back to their means of why.

"What?" Buffy asked seeing the expression on their faces. "They had it coming."

"What happened last night?" Ginny asked.

"Nothing," she huffed, ignoring eye contact. "A whole lot of nothing. A nothing-palooza."

"Re-scrambled eggs don't look like nothing," Neville pointed out.

"Maybe that's how I like them."

"Buffy."

Sometimes having friends can be such a drag. Especially when they genuinely cared for your well being. Come on, what was that all about?

"Okay," she relented, "there was this . . . vampire. A very irritating, gum on my shoe kind of vampire."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Except for my blood pressure," she said, and to ease their worry . . . "no major organs were pierced, bones still intact. He was . . . he's not exactly a stranger. I knew him–*know* him from Sunnydale. Where I was hoping was the last place I would ever have to see him again."  
"What was he doing here?" asked Ginny.

Looking for his ex who just happened to be a psychotic vampire Buffy hoped was unaware had a relative that was a witch who resided within the castle with a bonus side of also being attracted to Hogwarts by its magical energy garnering a frightening appetite from evil creatures of every size and color which was the reason why the Forbidden Forest had become so forbidden to wizarding students. "I don't know."

"You don't think he came here looking for you do you?"

"No. Way no. He didn't even know I was here. He was probably just passing through. One thing I've learned is that vampires have a tendency to roam for no other reason than to roam."

"Is he . . . ,is he dangerous?"

Yes. Very. With two slayers on his death roaster. "As much as the next. But we're safe here. Tucked inside a well placed magical cocoon." A relief that 90% of the castle occupants were completely unaware of. "So, no worries. Embrace the ease. It's good. I'm good. We're all good."

The conversation lulled as they went back to eating breakfast, Ginny and Neville not exactly appeased by Buffy's answers but when were they ever relaxed since they found out that Buffy battled the undead and the soulless on dangerous nights. At least she was alive. Something they hated to find relief in every morning.

Buffy pushed all things demony to the back of her mind and was taking a large gulp of orange juice when she spotted him leaving his table. Speaking of irritating blondes.

"See you in class, Neville," she excused hurriedly, picked up her bag and rushed to Draco as he was just about to leave the Hall.

" . . . pointless. Can't teach worth a--"

"Hi," Buffy said breaking off Draco's words, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the intellectual Goyle and the philosophical Crabbe.

"Hey, I--" Draco said, but didn't try to tug his arm back.

"Yeah, I don't care," she interrupted and kept pulling.

Through the halls and up the stairs, as this conversation was not for public viewing, Buffy pulled him into the room, their room, and closed the door behind them. She dropped her bag on the floor, looked at him with his crossed arms and soured face, and stepping only a hairbreadths away from him she smacked the back of his head.

"Ow!"

"Stop acting like a jerk."

"Wha--"

"It's been weeks since Valentine's Day. I've given you space, lots of space for your senseless immaturity but guess what? No more space for you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

And she smacked him again.

"Stop doing that!"

Draco kept rubbing his sore spot while he glared at Buffy with her crossed arms and pursed lips.

Buffy knew him better than anybody. She knew when to stay away and give him the chance to cool down and let out whatever steam he had coming out of his train. And she had just done that after his behavior on Valentine's Day when a bug went up his butt and never came back out. He ignored her. Pointedly it might be added. She was irked of course, but it was no biggie . . . at first. But as the days wore on and he continued the silent treatment and the snubbing, it became more than irk it went full blown 'hell no!'

"You've been ignoring me on purpose. Pointless purpose if I do say so myself." Ha, 'pointless purpose'– no wait, off track. Focus. "So just remove the bug out of your ass already and talk to me."

He avoided looking at her as he said, "I am talking."

"No," she countered, and pulled the sleeve on his arm to get him to face her. "I mean really talk to me. What's going on?"

Gradually he stuffed his hands into his pockets, and looked away again leaning back against a desk in silence.

She wasn't moving from this spot until they cleared the air. Even if it meant they had to stay here all day. If she had to miss all her classes, so be it.

It wasn't jealousy, well at least not completely. When it came to Buffy it was unexplainable of how Draco felt about her. It was possessive at times. Tender in others. But whatever it was, it was unconditional, completely and utterly. She meant the world to him, like no one else will ever be able to. And sometimes those feelings, whatever they were, could be too much, and he wouldn't know how to react. Especially when they were tied to a promise he had made long ago and was hell bent on keeping.

"Nothing's going on. I've been busy that's all."

He wasn't looking at her but at a piece of nonexistent lint he was picking at on his pant leg.

"You're lying," she said.

Of course she would know, Draco sighed heavily and forced himself to look at her knowing avoiding eye contact was a dead give away.

"OWL's are coming up, you know that, and I--"

"And dragon-crap." She didn't even let him finish the tale he was trying to feed. "This has nothing to do with OWL's, and don't pretend that it does."

Draco kept quiet, and Buffy hated it. _He's very protective of you did you know that?_ The words came bouncing back days after they had been spoken. And she remembered it all. The way Draco had behaved on that day, the looks he had given, all the rebuff behavior since then . . .

"Is this about Theodore?"

Buffy saw the flinch of his lower jaw right before he turned his face away. The gesture added it all together. She wasn't going to label it as any exact emotion, because Draco didn't do exact emotions, he was always a jumble of everything at once. And that was always his problem.

"Draco," she said gently. "Theodore and I--"

"This isn't about Nott!" he screamed. Buffy automatically flinched back a step and when he noticed it he calmed himself down. "Sorry," he said, and loathed the fact that he had screamed at all. Hated that his bundle of emotions caused that kind of reaction, but the good thing was that Buffy understood him more than he did. Which was their friendship's saving grace.

Buffy knew she needed to explain, but she didn't need to excuse. She wasn't at fault here, there was no fault to be had from anyone.

"Draco, what's going between me and Theodore doesn't change anything. Between us I mean."

A scoffing sound left his nose. "Right."

"I'm serious, why would you even think that?"

Because he was selfish and he didn't want to share. Because he was afraid Nott would take her away and she would forget about him. Because no one would ever be good enough for her.

"I don't know," he shrugged, picking at the invisible lint once again. "Isn't that how relationships are supposed to work. You spend more and more time with your boyfriend, forgot about everyone else, get married and--"

"Whoa!" she exclaimed, waving a hand back in forth. "Can you say jumping the gun? What is it with this Wizarding World?!" Seriously. "It's called dating. Which means to date. You know go out with different boys at different times. Have fun. When you date someone in school that doesn't mean that's the it. Till death do us part. _One boy, oh well I'm done looking_. Geez, why is it that the only person who seems to grasp the dating concept is Ginny?" Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. The Longbottoms. The Potters, hell even her parents. They were all one trick ponies, no offense. They dated, and only dated mind you, what would be their significant others. And look how well that turned out for the Summers'. "I'm sixteen and got ways to go before the altar. Right now it's about fun. And with Theodore that's what I'm doing, having fun. Theodore's a nice guy, he's sweet and cute and great to be around but marriage is so far off the line it's not even on the line. And I don't know what's gonna happen, and I don't really care. We're just now, and that's all we both want, the now."

He didn't seem satisfied with that answer. He needed reassurance that she would always be there. He had been hurt by her departure years ago, and the worry that he would lose her again was constantly at the forefront of his mind. She was in the fault for that, she knew that she had caused wounds that weren't easy to repair, but she was prepared to make amends. To make it all up to Draco until he could put his trust in her again. To make him feel safe with her like he had been before.

"But Draco you and I aren't just now,"she spoke softly, and placed a hand on his forearm to cement her words. "We've known each other too long and so much that we're . . . intertwined, I guess. We're completely attached to the point of . . . to the point that we don't even have a point. When I said I didn't want to lose you I meant it. You're a part of my life that just is. Nothing's gonna change that. Ever."

Draco had lived a very privileged and spoiled life. He was never at want for anything, which made him absolutely greedy. Living that kind of life made things and sometimes even people feel disposable. If anything was damaged or lost it could easily be replaced and that was that. He had believed this for a very long time, at least up until he was thirteen. Then Buffy left without a word and he felt lost. He realized then that everything and anything was not always replaceable. Sometimes there were things and people who were only one of a kind. And when Buffy magically reappeared into his life he feared she would leave just as easily as before. And you couldn't really blame him if he wanted to keep her just a little bit closer this time around. But here she was promising that nothing would stand between them. They would always 'be'. Whatever there 'be' meant. And what more could he really ask for.

Draco lifted his gray eyes to her face and she could see the release of their cold nature and gain vulnerability. A very, very, very rare emotion for him. One that should never be tainted or broken. Because if it was, it will never be again.

"Ever?" he asked, in a soft voice no one had ever heard him speak in.

"Ever," she said firmly, and that was the beginning of it. Of Draco's wounds slowly starting to stitch closed, and the trust that was being regained.

Hallelujah.

* * *

Eight Years Ago . . .

Death isn't a possibility when you're a kid. When someone went away they always came back. Always. That's how it was. No one went away forever. So, when news comes that someone has died a young mind doesn't comprehend the ramifications of it yet. They don't understand why people cry, why they must wear black, why those who are sleeping won't wake up . . . at least not until someone close to them, someone they saw everyday, someone they loved and who was supposed to live forever disappears without a reason why. And when that moment comes the true meaning of loss is felt and things are never the same again. It's a sad but important part of life, and sometimes there are those who experience this kind of grief much too young and much too early. Children should obtain as much of their innocence for as much and for as long as they possibly can, but nothing can stop the inevitable. Not even magic.

Buffy doesn't play anymore. She won't visit or leave her house. She won't go outside or respond to his owls. And try as he might, he doesn't fully understand why.

"It's because she's very sad, darling," his mother said.

Dark clouds covered the sun and sky, rain and lighting hovering over the Summers' house. It was very quiet and the adults spoke in hushed tones. Mr. and Mrs. Summers, his father, his mother all talking about what happened in St. Mungo's only hours ago.

"Is it because of Celia?" he asked.

"Yes," she nodded sadly. "Buffy loved her cousin Celia very, very much, and now that she's . . . gone . . . Buffy will miss her terribly. But she will get better, I promise you. She just needs a little time. Do you understand?"

He understood that Celia had died, that Buffy was sad, but he didn't understand why she had to stay sad. He was still here, she still had him and the rest of friends, why didn't that make her at least a little bit happier? Make her leave her house at least for an hour? That's what he didn't understand, but Draco nodded anyway.

"Good," she smiled warmly, gave him a great big hug and left him standing as she joined the rest of the adults.

" . . . hasn't talked since then," Hank said, worry in every letter.

"I can imagine. Such a terrible thing," Lucius commented, his tone sincere. "Being alone in the room with Celia when she passed away. Poor child."

"Has Buffy said anything else about what happened?" asked Narcissa.

"No," Joyce replied, her throat clogged with frustration of feeling overwhelmingly helpless about her daughter. "All she told us was what she told the healers, that Celia had been yelling and screaming before it happened. She hasn't spoken to anyone since then."

Draco didn't hear the rest of the conversation as he wandered through the dark halls that wore no longer friendly in the shadows. He stopped just outside an opened door. The shadows more dense in there than any other place. It felt forbidden as he saw Buffy lay there, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. Her stuffed pig Mr. Gordo pressed tightly in her hands as she hugged him against her. He watched her but he didn't dare go inside. He knew that he shouldn't.

"You all right there, Draco?"

Draco jumped at the sound of Mr. Summer's voice and turned his face up to see him, a reflexive response when someone sneaks up beside you.

"Yes, sir," he replied automatically.

"Don't worry so much," Hank said without much reassurance as he looked over at his daughter. "Buffy . . . she'll be fine."

Children grow to learn that adults sometimes said things they didn't mean. They tend to catch it a lot quicker than grown ups do because they're the ones that are lied to the most often. And Draco knew this was one of those times.

"But what if she's not?" he asked.

What if she's not? A question Hank had asked himself time and again and one he didn't have a direct answer for. No one did and it was a horrible feeling.

"We'll," he said, placing a hand on Draco's small shoulder and looked at the boy's face. "She's got you to take care of her doesn't she."

Draco didn't say or gesture anything. It wasn't a question, he knew that. But Mr. Summers had been right. Buffy still had him.

Hank had been thinking about it for some time, and had convinced himself over and over again that it was the right thing to do. It would be best. There was no time like the present. He knelt down in front of Draco and with both hands on the boy's shoulders, looked him straight in the eyes.

"Draco, listen to me very carefully. Buffy is going through something very hard right now. She really needs someone to look out for her. For now and in the future as well," he explained slowly. "Her mum and I can't always be there, especially when she starts attending Hogwarts in a few years, we need someone else to care for her, to protect her. No matter what. Could you do that?"

There was not a doubt in his mind.

"Yes," he agreed rapidly, but it wasn't enough. Hank needed absolute reassurance from the boy he was asking too much of. Asking because Draco was a Malfoy and his family was one of the most powerful in the Wizarding community.

"I need you to promise me, Draco. Promise me that you'll always be there for Buffy. That you'll take care of her. Protect her. Be responsible for her. Always."

It was a purely selfish request. Twenty percent of it was for Buffy's benefit. The other eighty was for his own. And not once did he care he was requesting such a big responsibility from a child.

No one had ever asked for anything from Draco. He had heard wizards ask his father for favors time and time again. His father was a very important man in their world and Draco had always admired him. Wanted to be like him when he grew up. Without realizing it Hank had given Draco something he had been wanting for a very long time. He had given him an obligation. Something that he and he alone would responsible for. And more than that, Hank had attached it to his best friend; and nothing was more sacred to a child then their best friend. It was the most wondrous thing in the world.

Draco moved his eyes to Buffy's still form on the bed, pausing an admiring second before he said, "I promise."

And that was the point in which Hank Summers had first began to distance himself away from his daughter. She had the Malfoy's now. They could take care of her. And he was free to live life a little easier without responsibility. And his twisted, disgusting heart beat a little easier.

* * *

Note: Okay, I blame life. Did you know that there's a whole world out there, with people and everything? Talking to each other, face to face. What has the technology age come to? A million apologizes to anyone and everyone who was waiting for an update, but I was brain freezed and nothing I was writing worked. So I waited and dilly dallied, and here is what I'm hoping is a good/acceptable chapter.

On a side note, saw HBP and it was awesome! Especially in 3D if it was only for twenty minutes, but still so good. But there were some major peeves. First of all, Neville, my sweet little Neville, had what? Three lines. He was in almost every seen, but still three lines! What the hell was that. Then Ginny, that is not the Ginny I know. She seemed so, no offense here, tarty. Didn't like it. No way she would've been pushy like that. And this may just be the fanfic writer in me, but I kept waiting for Buffy to pop out. Lol. Kick some Death Eater butt at the Burrow and be Draco's shoulder, even if he wouldn't have let her. I kept re-imagining the whole story with her in it, which was okay cause I've seen he movie about fifteen times so I didn't miss anything. Overall good funny movie, lots of differences from the book but what are you gonna do right?


	54. Chapter 54

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

Trelawney was sacked. Firenze was now the professor of Divination, much to Umbridge's chagrin. Things with Draco were back to normal. And Spike was in fact still gracing the forest with his presence. A forest that had replicated part of itself, thanks to Dumbledore, in classroom eleven where Firenze was now teaching Divination.

No one knew what to expect on that first day with the centaur, and it was safe to say it had been very strange. The students had been shown the different meanings of the stars that graced their presence in the ceiling of the classroom as they lay back on the soft grass. They learned about burning sage and mallowsweet, and what the smoke patterns they emitted meant; symbols that could be interpreted to define certain fortunes. But most of all they learned that not even centaurs, who had generations upon generations of practice and had managed to unlock the secrets of the universe, can predict an exact future. By the end of it the whole thing was by far the most interesting and strangest lesson they had ever had.

When the bell rang right outside the classroom door everyone jumped; having completely forgotten they were still inside the castle, and quite convinced that they really had been in the Forest. And they all looked slightly perplexed when they filed out.

Harry and Ron were on the point of following them when they heard Firenze call out, "Buffy Summers, a word, please." And they paused.

Upon entering the classroom at the beginning of the period Firenze had greeted Harry, and only Harry, to the surprise of many that the boy-who-lived had met the centaur before today, but he did not greet Buffy. His blue eyes stayed true and firm, not once signaling that he knew the blonde student. Which was of course a lie.

Their first meeting had been skittish. She had been on one of her many nightly rounds when she came upon the surprised centaur. Firenze felt the natural predatory aura that surrounded Buffy and tensed. He watched her carefully with his wise eyes and assessed her intentions. It was part of the package, the dangerous sense she gave off to the magical creatures in this world. He had demanded in a calm voice what she was doing in the forest, and she replied casually, 'looking for demons and vampires to slay.' There wasn't really any point in lying to him. They would've bumped into each other sooner or later. Firenze was unsure of what she was telling him, but he would be blind if he had not noticed the severely diminished number of dark creatures that came upon the forest. He left her alone then but watched her through the trees. It took two more trips and a witness to Buffy slaying a demon that made Firenze believe her. After that a truce was formed. He told his brethren of her role in the forest and although they did not fully trust her, as they never trusted most humans, they stayed out of her way for she was keeping the wooded areas free of dark creatures and therefore keeping them safe. Firenze and Buffy rarely came across on her hunting nights, only on the occasions when he sensed a particular evil that needed to be dealt with. But he did watch and learn certain aspects about the slayer which was why he had requested for her to stay after class today.

Harry and Ron stopped and turned by the door, watching the centaur advancing a little toward Buffy. His blue eyes looked past her shoulder to the two of them and said, "This is of a private matter. I wish to speak with Buffy Summers alone. Please close the door upon your exit."

They were too overwhelmed by the surprise that if they were of clear mind they might've felt almost slighted. Quietly confounded Ron and Harry left the room with visions of questions dancing around in their heads.

"Buffy Summers, you are a friend of Hagrid's," said the centaur, once they were alone. "Give him a warning from me. His attempt is not working. He would do better to abandon it."

"His attempt?" Buffy repeated blankly.

"Yes. The giant he has taken under his care."

Oh, see that made sense. It was clear, concise and should've been said in the first place. Why did centaurs have to be so cryptic?

"Grawp," she confirmed.

"He would do better to abandon his attempt," said Firenze, nodding. "I would warn Hagrid myself, but I am banished - it would be unwise for me to go too near the Forest now, Hagrid has troubles enough, without a centaurs' battle."

As far as the centaurs were concerned, Firenze was a traitor and forbidden from the forest. After accepting the position of Divination Professor at Hogwarts his brethren found it to be a betrayal of their kind. Believing Firenze had lowered himself for humanity, and therefore was no longer allowed to enter the forest without stirring up unwanted trouble. A hard decision it was to make to accept Dumbledore's offer, but Firenze was not as blind as his fellow centaurs when it came to trusting humans. He knew both walks of life could work harmoniously together when given the opportunity. All he was doing was taking the first step; even if his brethren did not see it that way. The hoof-shaped bruise in the middle of Firenze's chest proving their point in physical terms.

"I've tried," Buffy said. "But he won't listen. You've seen the bodily harm Grawp's been giving him. Intentionally/unintentionally, either way, Hagrid's hard headed about it. I don't think there's anything I can do."

"Hagrid has recently rendered me a great service," said Firenze, "and he has long since earned my respect for the care he shows all living creatures. But he must be brought to his senses. The attempt is not working. But I not only speaking for his well being, which is of great concern, but for the other creatures in the forest. You must get him to understand Buffy Summers."

His voice was even and quiet, but it wasn't filled with any less severity. Which means she couldn't very well say no could she.

"Okay," she nodded. "I…I'll try."

"Thank you, Buffy Summers."

She'll try, it won't do any good, but she'll try. Buffy left the classroom with another weight added to her shoulders. All for the charge of keeping Hagrid's secret. She said it before, and she'll say it again, secrets suck sometimes.

"Hi."

"Hey," Buffy smiled, taken aback at finding Harry standing outside the door. "Lost your way and need a guide?"

"What?"

"You're not the usual person waiting for me after class, makes me wonder on a motive."

"I need a motive?"

"I've learned most boys usually do."

"Glad I can be categorized so easily."

"Most boys usually are," she said matter of factly and started walking, Harry falling right into step beside her. "I'm waiting for you to ask you know."

"Ask?"

"Why Firenze asked me to stay after class. That was the real reason why you waited right?"

"You're very mistrustful today."

"Well, you have to admit this is a little out there. Like I said, you're not the usual suspect waiting for me to share the morning weather."

"Cloudy."

"What?"

"With a chance of rain, I hear." Buffy smiled, he made with the funny, a clear passage to friendship easy street. "And that's not why I waited. I just . . . wanted to talk."

"About?"

"The morning weather."

She scrunched up her face. "You're very strange today."

They spent the remainder of break outside the Transfiguration classroom as they waited for it to start. You'd be surprised how much there is to talk about it when you're not really talking about anything.

"He's completely evil."

"No, he's—okay maybe he's a little evil, but mostly, seriously misunderstood."

"Misunderstood? He's always trying to extinguish the entire human race."

"He's not trying to extinguish the entire human race."

"Yes he is. Every single time he comes on."

He had a point there. Sort of. "Well . . . it's not like it's on purpose."

"Not on-- how is it _not_ on purpose?"

"Because . . . because…oh, because he's only trying to blow up the planet, it's not his fault it's populated by life forms. So, if he ever succeeds in having it go kaboom people are obviously going to die, but it's not like that was his original goal. Killing the whole race is just kind of an after effect. So see, not evil, it's just not a completely thought out plan."

Harry stared blankly at her, and then said, "No. Evil."

"Misunderstood," she argued.

"Marvin the Martin is very willing to blow up a whole planet, killing millions of people, all for a better view of Venus. Completely evil."

She crossed her arms. "Yeah, well, Bugs Bunny is nothing but a self-righteous, glory hogging twit."

His eyes widened. "No he's not, take that back."

"You take yours back first."

The bell rang over them, a warning bell for the start of the next class and signaling the fighters to move to their individual corners.

Buffy was looking rather proud of herself when she felt a soft kiss on her head.

"Hi," Theodore said into her hair.

She looked up with a smile, "Hi."

A vein tensed in Harry's neck, hello they were in the middle of an argument here.

Today Harry had taken a very hard first step. Telling Ron that he wasn't going to join him for break because he was going to wait for Buffy, that wasn't easy. Not walking away after the wait time for Buffy outside the classroom was getting longer by the second, that took patience. And not running the other way when he heard the door open and knowing she was about to come out, that took courage. It wasn't simple as it may have seemed to just wait for her, but it was worth it. Necessary even. Until Theodore Nott intervened that is.

"Hey," Theodore nodded to Harry.

"Hi," he mumbled in return.

What did these boys have against Theodore? First Draco and his sourpuss and now Harry. And they said girls were hard to figure out.

"Going in?" Theodore asked her, taking a hold of her hand.

"Was about to," she smiled and let him lead, but paused a step away from fully entering the room and pointed a finger at Harry, "this isn't over."

He smiled shortly and watched as she walked in hand in hand with Theodore. Stupid Slytherin.

"Have a nice chat?"

Harry faced the arriving Ron with a questioning expression.

"Oh, I don't really care, but I'm not being sarcastic," Ron answered the look.

"Than what are you being?" he asked, wondering.

"Don't know," he shrugged.

"He's being a friend," Hermione said, appearing behind them.

Ron looked up thoughtfully. "No, I don't think that's it."

She gave him a look, the Hermione look and he succumbed to it. There really was no other option there.

"I don't like her. Doubt I ever will. Wouldn't save her life for a bag full of galleons, but . . . she's your friend-- for reasons I will never understand and…I realized that the least I can do is be tolerable about it."

"Mighty big of you," said Harry.

Ron shrugged and they headed inside the classroom.

"Of course that only goes until she proves me right about being a two-headed snake and then all bets are off," he couldn't help but tack on, and Harry and Hermione didn't expect any less.

There was a break in the clouds that afternoon, and many took very full advantage of it. After classes were over, Ginny, Buffy, Neville and Luna took to spending their time outside. Neville scribbling notes on a piece of parchment with an open book on his lap. Luna humming a tune as she betrayed the far off look in her eyes as she was in fact studying her surroundings with acute precision and picking up the very little things that many missed; like the boy with the brown hair that was being playfully chased who didn't see the small muddy spot on the grass until it was too late. Luna knew it had been there from the previous rain. Buffy and Ginny were sitting cross-legged with their backs against each other 'studying', though the last time a page was turned in their individual textbooks was over half an hour ago.

"What about just below the chin?"

"Ummm…yeah, that could work."

"Just take a grip of it and chop it off with a pair of scissors."

"Definitely would make your head feel lighter."

Ginny stayed quiet, looked at the tips of her hair and then gave a small shake of her head. "I still don't think I would do it though."

"Figured that."

"I'd look like a little girl."

"Yeah," she sighed. "Besides your hair looks nice the way it is anyway."

Buffy stared into the forest as she talked, every part of her being knowing that Spike was in there somewhere planning who knows what and thinking of going who knows where.

"He's not going to pop out you know," Ginny whispered.

Buffy let out a short unconvinced 'hmmm' and said, "That's what he wants you to think."

"It's bright and sunny out, unless he's planning on catching fire I think Hogwarts is pretty safe."

"For now."

Ginny shook her head then tilted it up her face to soak up the warmth of the sun. Buffy had been preoccupied with that forest ever since Spike came to town. Every time she'd pass an open door or window that gave view of the foreboding trees she would look out until she walked by and wasn't able to look anymore. Neville and Ginny kept telling her that there was nothing to worry about; that Spike wasn't able to pass through the wards without, as Buffy had explained to them, being fried to a crisp. But still, Buffy worried and worried and worried.

"I've never known a vampire to catch fire on purpose. I would think it would be a very painful thing to do."

… what?

Neville stopped scribbling, Ginny turned around and Buffy had briefly gone through cold-water mode before coming out the other end.

"Er, Luna?" Buffy said to the other blonde witch, who was still looking into far off places, "what are you talking about?"

Luna turned around, her serene and confident expression facing the surprised ones of those around her. "Spike. That is the vampire you and Ginny were talking about isn't it?"

Um . . . What?

"Y-you, h-how do you know about Spike?" asked Neville.

Luna tilted her head a bit to the side and scrunched her eyebrows together. What an odd question to ask.

"I listened," she said plainly.

Ginny, Neville, George and Fred, those were only people, well the only students Buffy had told about Spike seeing as they were the only sneaky ones who knew about her being the slayer. As far as Buffy knew Luna Lovegood was definitely not on that thankfully short list. At least until now apparently.

Luna 'Loony' Lovegood believed in nonexistent creatures and always said the strangest things. Her eyes were large and held an almost permanent look of surprise. She was willowy and small and very few ever took her seriously. But there was one very important fact that people usually forgot. Luna Lovegood was a Ravenclaw, and Ravenclaws were very well known for their intelligence and cleverness. Qualities Luna had in loads of but nobody gave her enough credit for. And just because she didn't say things out in the open it didn't mean she didn't hold quite a lot of information most people easily bypassed.

"You talk about him a lot," she continued, "more than you realize I think."

"Why didn't you say anything before?" asked Ginny.

"This is the first time I've ever wanted to say anything about it really," Luna said in her dreamy voice.

This was one of those mental-twister times. So many thoughts going in circles and circles not having anywhere to go because they weren't supposed to be there in the first place.

"Hey, here's an off the wall secret life hanging in the balance kind of question," Buffy said, raising her hand a little for effect, "what else have we been talking about that we don't realize others may be listening to?"

"Oh, nothing completely serious," Luna assured them, which turned out to be not so assuring very short after. "I'm quite sure no one else knows about you being the vampire slayer. I think I would've heard something by now."

Again . . . what?!

Neville felt the tickling twitch on the corners of his mouth and he had to press his lips together to keep it inside, but laughter was always an unstoppable force when it wanted to get out. And as catchy as a sneeze. Ginny soon felt her funny bone itch but she didn't hold anything back and she and Neville laughed and laughed.

"Guys, this isn't funny," said Buffy seriously.

Ginny spoke or tried to speak between heaping breaths, "I'm sor . . . I'm sorry . . . but you're just . . . you're just so horrible at this."

"At what?"

"Keeping your secret . . . a secret," Neville replied, coming back from the chuckles. "You…you might as well let the whole world know now."

Buffy pouted, "Oh sure stick it to the one with the bad luck."

"I don't think it's your fault," Luna said, her voice calm as it usually was. "Or that it has anything to do with luck. I believe that the people who know, were meant to know."

Ginny recovered and cleared her throat, "What, like destiny or something?"

"I think fate is bigger than most people realize," she replied sincerely, and then her reflective eyes soon moved up to glance at the sky. "It's very blue today. I wonder if the Cromecacks are enjoying it. They do like the sun you know."

Neville, Ginny and Buffy were accustomed to Luna's offbeat behavior but still managed to be startled by it every now and then. But the quirkiness was what made Luna, Luna so by the end of it there were never really any complaints.

"Well whatever it is it seems to enjoy company," said Buffy. "My list of people who shouldn't know things keeps growing: Sunnydale, Hogwarts, London, other parts of Europe I may not know about."

"You should put it on the front page of the Daily Prophet. It'll save you time," said Ginny. "_Buffy Summers Reveals Dark Secret. Has Double Life When Sun Goes Down_."

"That's clever," Neville commented.

"I thought so."

Buffy sighed. "Sad thing is it's probably inevitable, too."

She was too upset about this. So Luna knew, so what. She was part of the inner circle they had going on, it didn't matter that she had heard their slip of tongue, all that mattered was that no one was running away screaming or telling the whole world _'Buffy's the slayer, Buffy's the slayer'_. It was better now, they didn't have to restrain their words around Luna, not that it mattered apparently. She was making it worse than what it was.

"I-I think it's better this way, Buffy," said Neville. "We don't have to hide it from Luna anymore."

"It was kinda hard to do when we thought she didn't know," Ginny pointed out.

"That's true," Buffy agreed. "Better her than someone we didn't trust I guess."

"Like Umbridge."

"Oh, that would just be all sorts of bad."

Especially when Buffy had a hell of a time convincing Fudge not to tell frog-lady after the inquisition they had given her.

They were right, of course they were right. No one else was better to be in the know than Luna. Buffy was no longer fretting as she realized her worry was a pointless worry. She relaxed into the sunny day again, and they all went on like they had before albeit a little more comfortably. Neville resumed his work, Luna continued to quietly observe and learn, and Ginny and Buffy went on to another busy conversation. Not knowing that very soon their little commune would be interrupted.

It was easier now. No more hiding in the shadows or inside musty classrooms. They were friends and all of Hogwarts was aware of that. So, if he wanted to talk to her, he didn't have to wait for a planned time or go anywhere where they wouldn't be seen. He could do it whenever he pleased which was what Draco was planning on doing right now. He walked over all alone to where Buffy was sitting with her insipid friends and she looked up and smiled when she saw him ready to greet.

"Hey, Dr--"

Without a word Draco bent down, grabbed her hand, pulled her up and along without missing a step. All to the surprise and shock of her friends. Buffy had just managed to grab a hold of her bag and stumbled a few steps before she came to her senses and planted her heels causing Draco to jerk backwards into her.  
"Um, rude," she pointed out.

Draco centered his balance and still having a grip on her hand gave her a snobbish look.

"So?"

"What do y--right, look who I'm talking to," she rolled her eyes.

He started to pull her again and he got two steps before he stumbled back once more.

"What are you glued to the bloody ground?"

"Until you tell me the sense of rush than yes."

"Who said anything about a rush?"

"You're yanking me along like there's a fire that doesn't say rush to you?"

"No, it says I want to talk to you without your idiot fr--"

Buffy raised a finger in warning, cutting him off. "Watch it with the insults mister."

He rolled his eyes before politically correcting his words. "Without your _friends_ around."

"And you had to yank me up and on to do it. You couldn't just say please?"

Draco took on the expression of a confused puppy. "Please? Is that even a real word?"

It was impossible not to smile at the cuteness of it which luckily for him eased her annoyance.

"What did you wanna talk to me about?" she asked.

"Nothing in particular. Didn't want to study for OWL's, didn't want to do homework, figured I should spend my time some other way."

"So, you just wanna hang out?" she asked and he nodded. "You could've said that in the first place you know."

Buffy left him standing there as she went back to properly excuse herself from Neville, Ginny and Luna before returning to his side, grabbing a hold of his hand and this time it was Draco's turn to be dragged along to a small open space Buffy had spotted a short steps away where they could talk alone seeing as Draco had an aversion to very nice and lovely people.

"You know for someone so small you're bloody strong," said Draco, walking in quick step trying to keep up.

And Buffy couldn't help but mutter under her breath, "Mister, you have no idea."

* * *

"Concentrate, Potter."

Harry's knee was throbbing. He was walking out of these Occlumency/Legilimency lessons with more bruises and scrapes than a Quidditch match. Huffing, he picked himself up from the ground and tried once more to steel his mind.

The boy did not understand. That was the root of the problem. It had been weeks since the first attempt to teach him and still Harry Potter was no closer than he was from the first minute of the lessons. Never let it be said that Severus Snape was one without patience.

"Block your mind properly."

"I'm trying."

"By now you shouldn't have to be trying, Potter. You should be doing."

Harry bit the inside of his cheek. His burning eyes looking to Snape with reigned defiance.

"Ready your mind," Snape instructed and pointed his wand. "Legilimens!"

The attack came again and Harry tried everything in his power to stop it, but the images flooded over one another and into Snape's mind.

Harry was seven, holding a broken toy car in a room decorated with Christmas decorations while Dudley was surrounded, nearly drowning in shiny new toys …he was sitting the Great Hall in his first year looking over at the Slytherin table, watching the little blonde girl with the bored expression with strange curiosity…the reflection of his parents smiling back at him in the Mirror of Erised…Lord Voldemort's face scowling at him from the back of Professor Quirrell's head…the wretched smell of mouldy water of the Chamber…Buffy staring at him with glinting eyes as she stood over Ginny's unconscious form…Buffy laying motionless on the stone floor…Buffy in the hospital wing . . .

"No!"

Harry had tumbled once more to the ground. Snape had seen too much, he always did, and the only times Harry was able to successfully push him out his mind was when there were things he definitely did not want him to see. The private conversations he had with Buffy in the infirmary were one of those things. Maybe it was those secret talks in the hospital wing at night or the secret letters they had shared for months, whatever it was it made Harry feel very private and very possessive about Buffy. For a very long time she was his secret. Their friendship was the one personal thing he didn't have to share or talk to about with anyone. It was his and his alone. And because of that Harry began to think of Buffy as partly his; as strange and twisted as that may sound. He rarely got things that were his own, and he wasn't about to let it be shared with anyone, let alone let it be ripped from his mind by someone he didn't trust.

There were few people in this world who understood that sometimes one had to do whatever it takes to do what was necessary, and very few still who had the courage to do it. Severus Snape was one of those people. He had been pondering for years about Buffy Summers. Why she was down in the Chambers. How she was able to block out his thoughts so effectively without knowing or trying. And as it turns out, he may have been looking in the wrong places. Harry Potter had been a witness to what occurred in the Chamber of Secrets, his mind was full of the answers Snape was looking for. He had been a window that Severus wasn't even aware of. These lessons proved more useful to him now and he wasn't going to let the opportunity slip through his fingers any longer.

"Again!" Snape ordered quickly and before Harry had enough time to prepare Snape was already streaming through his memories, searching and locking those he wanted to see the most into his own mind…

"_She won't wake," said a soft voice. _

_Harry jumped and spun around on his knees. _

_A small figure was standing by the nearest pillar, watching; wearing a Hogwarts uniform with silver and green embellishments. _

"_Buf – Buffy?"_

_She didn't say anything as she walked a handful of steps forward, not taking her eyes off Harry's face. _

"_What d'you mean, she won't wake?" Harry said desperately. "She's not --she's not --?"_

"_She's still alive," said a tall, dark-haired boy leaning against the pillar Buffy had been standing next to. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though Harry were looking at him through a misted window. But there was no mistaking him. "But only just." _

"_Tom Riddle?" Harry asked and the boy nodded._

_Harry stared at him. Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, yet here he stood, a weird, misty light shining about him, not a day older than sixteen. _

"_Are you a ghost?" Harry said uncertainly. _

"_A memory," said Riddle quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years." _

_He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary Harry had found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom._

"_What are you–Buffy what's going on? What are you doing down here?"_

"_I..." she began before her head rolled quickly to the right and there was something different about her expression now. "I don't believe that's any of your business, Potter."…_

"Protego!" Harry commanded.

Snape stumbled back and out of Harry's mind, but it was too late; Snape had gotten exactly what he was looking for.

Severus quickly replayed all the memories he had stolen as to not lose them. He stood quiet as Harry gathered his bearings with an expression of utmost focus and reserved trepidation on his face.

"That's enough for today, Potter," he said slowly as though he wasn't aware he was saying them.

Harry scowled at the careless dismissal, but the look had fallen on unfocused eyes as Snape looked to be a million miles away. Picking up his fallen wand Harry exited the room, getting the odd feeling he had left something very important behind.

Severus heard the door close, the sound muffled by the fog of puzzled memories in his head. It was all there. Everything he had wanted to know could now be pieced together by what he had found inside Harry Potter's mind. He would finally get his answers.

Wasting no time, Severus placed the tip of his wand by his temple pulling out streams of silver thoughts and dropping them into the stone Pensive. Every fiber in his body focusing on what he saw.

And horrified to learn it was exactly what he feared it would be.

* * *

Note: Okay, okay I know I waited way too long to update and I really tried to do it sooner. Apart from the busy bee-ing I had to do, I've written and rewritten this chapter I don't even know how many times. And I wasn't going to post something I wasn't comfortable with just to post. So, I hope this somewhat makes up for the long wait time and that I still have an audience . . . out there . . . somewhere . . . anybody?


	55. Chapter 55

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

_TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE_

Then he waved the wand once, and the letters of his name rearranged themselves:

_I AM LORD VOLDEMORT _

"You see?" he whispered. "It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side?"

Buffy tuned out the rest of the conversation letting the sixteen-year-old Riddle prattle on. The younger you are the more boastful you can be apparently. She walked over to the little red haired girl, the one who was having her essence being sucked away bit by bit because of a diary. They only had so much time left before the memory of Tom Riddle would become corporeal. Although now that she thought about it, he wasn't exactly necessary. Sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle was a backup plan, a just in case scenario. Things were different now-- much, much different.

" . . . I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

"You're not," Harry said, his quiet voice full of hatred.

"Not what?" snapped Riddle.

"Not the greatest sorcerer in the world," said Harry, breathing fast. "Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn't dare try and take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you're hiding these days —"

The smile had gone from Riddle's face, to be replaced by a very ugly look.

"Dumbledore's been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!" he hissed.

"He's not as gone as you might think!" Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true.

"She is very sweet isn't she," Buffy said abruptly, causally. She grew tired of hearing the boys argue, she wanted action.

Harry and Tom immediately turned to her. Buffy was looming over Ginny's sleeping form. Her eyes focused on the girl.

"What are you doing? Get away from her!" Harry ordered, leaving Tom Riddle's side and coming to stand in-between Ginny and someone he had the sneaky suspicion wasn't all Buffy Summers.

"Are you afraid I might hurt the little girl," Buffy taunted backing away slowly.

"Didn't you know? Harry Potter is the savior of the innocent," said Tom, standing beside her.

"Albus Dumbledore's pet guard."

Buffy snickered. "More like pet rat. Having a child do his bidding while old Dumbledore waits for the smoke to clear."

"Don't you talk that way about Dumbledore," Harry sneered.

"And also he's defender I see," Buffy smirked. "Pathetic old man. Having little Harry . . . Harry . . . "

All at once everything was becoming blurry and anguish split through her brain. Her eyes screwed shut and her hands shot up to cradle her head. Her expression became twisted in pain.

"Buffy?" asked Harry. She had been acting strange since the start of it this. Buffy had always been mean but this was a different kind of mean. It was cold and detached. The Buffy he knew made every cruel taunt and hurtful word personal. She made sure there was connection. But this was different. She was different.

No, no, no this wasn't going to do. Tom Riddle watched Buffy grab her head and he knew the cause of her pain. He felt it. Something was trying break free from that tiny girl he could feel it. Something was trying to intercept their plans.

She felt like she was being torn apart. Stop it! Stop it! She kept yelling to the voices in her head. To the internal warfare for her soul in which she had no say in the outcome.

"What are you doing to her?" Harry demanded from Tom.

"I'm not doing anything, Potter."

"H-Harry?" Buffy's weak voice regained their attention. She was still holding her head but her eyes had opened slightly as if everything was too bright. "I-I . . . how-- h-how . . . I don't . . . I'm . . . I . . . "

It was too hard to think. There was so much noise in her head.

"Buffy," Harry said gently walking to her.

Buffy saw his movement and moved back. Something inside of her feared the approach of human contact. Unused to the sensation of it.

Harry was about to try again when he froze.

Music was coming from somewhere. Riddle and Harry whirled around to stare down the empty Chamber searching for the source while Buffy couldn't concentrate on anything but the burning feeling in her chest.

The music was growing louder. It was eerie, spine-tingling, unearthly; it lifted the hair on Harry's scalp and made his heart feel as though it was swelling to twice its normal size. Then, as the music reached such a pitch that Harry felt it vibrating inside his own ribs, flames erupted at the top of the nearest pillar.

A crimson bird the size of a swan had appeared, piping its weird music to the vaulted ceiling. It had a glittering golden tail as long as a peacock's and gleaming golden talons, which were gripping a ragged bundle. A second later, the bird was flying straight at Harry. It dropped the ragged thing it was carrying at his feet, then landed heavily on his shoulder. As it folded its great wings, Harry looked up and saw it had a long, sharp golden beak and a beady black eye.

The bird stopped singing. It sat still and warm next to Harry's cheek, gazing steadily at Riddle.

"That's a phoenix," said Riddle, staring shrewdly back at it.

"Fawkes?" Harry breathed, and he felt the bird's golden claws squeeze his shoulder gently.

"And that —" said Riddle, now eyeing the ragged thing that Fawkes had dropped, "that's the old school Sorting Hat —"

So it was. Patched, frayed, and dirty, the hat lay motionless at Harry's feet.

They were all white noise to Buffy's ears. She didn't care that there was a phoenix. She didn't care what stupid song some stupid bird was singing. The voices in her head slowly started to mute and bits of memory were slowly coming back. The last thing Buffy remembered was firing a spell at Ginny, and–Ginny! Buffy looked across the floor panicked and found Ginny laying motionless on the ground. What happened? What did she do to her? How–the voices were shouting again. What the bloody hell happened?! Everything was a dark hole. She didn't know where she was, what she had been doing, everything was a blank. It felt like she had swam up to the surface without knowing how she had gotten there. But she had, she had and she took a deep lung filled breath. And slowly the voices of those around her made their way through her consciousness. She felt like she was on land again.

"No one knows why you lost your powers when you attacked me," said Harry. "I don't know myself. But I know why you couldn't kill me. Because my mother died to save me. My common Muggle-born mother," he added, shaking with suppressed rage. "She stopped you killing me. And I've seen the real you, I saw you last year. You're a wreck. You're barely alive. That's where all your power got you. You're in hiding. You're ugly, you're foul —"

Riddle's face contorted. Then he forced it into an awful smile. "So. Your mother died to save you. Yes, that's a powerful countercharm. I can see now . . . there is nothing special about you, after all. I wondered, you see. There are strange likenesses between us, after all. Even you must have noticed. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself. We even look something alike . . . but after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you from me. That's all I wanted to know."

Harry stood, tense, waiting for Riddle to raise his wand. But Riddle's twisted smile was widening again.

What was going on? What was Harry doing down here? Who was that boy he was talking to? Buffy opened her mouth, but then she got a sudden dreadful feeling in her stomach. The same feeling she had gotten earlier, right before she and Ginny had to run.

Riddle opened his mouth wide and hissed – but Harry understood what he was saying . . .

"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."

Harry wheeled around to look up at the statue, Fawkes swaying on his shoulder.

Slytherin's gigantic stone face was moving. Horrorstruck, Harry saw his mouth opening, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole.

And something was stirring inside the statue's mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths.

Harry backed away until he hit the dark Chamber wall, and as he shut his eyes tight he felt Fawkes' wing sweep his cheek as he took flight. Harry wanted to shout, "Don't leave me!" but what chance did a phoenix have against the king of serpents?

Something huge hit the stone floor of the Chamber. Harry felt it shudder — he knew what was happening, he could sense it, could almost see the giant serpent uncoiling itself from Slytherin's mouth. Then he heard Riddle's hissing voice:

"Kill him."

No! Buffy felt a shiver down her spine watching Harry fumble his away against the Chamber walls with his eyes closed while the basilisk slithered closer and closer. Her head was eerily silent like the calm before a storm and new found instinct was taking over.

"STOP! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Tom screeched, his voice echoing against the walls.

Harry didn't feel the basilisk nearby anymore and when he heard Tom's screams he slowly opened one brave eye. And what he saw made both his eyes pop wide open.

Buffy sent wave after of spells. Flashes of fireworks that bounced off the basilisk. The large snake roared in pain more than once but was unwavering in his attempts. It chased after Buffy relentlessly. Shaking off the dangerous spells Buffy had never learned and didn't know where she was getting from.

"Buffy!" Harry shouted running towards her.

"No! Stay where you are!" she ordered narrowly missing the basilisk's bite.

"But--"

Light zoomed across the air and hit Harry squarely in the chest knocking him to the ground.

"Harry!"

"Not so fast, Potter," said Riddle, the wand still raised.

Buffy couldn't get to him, the snake was still on her tail every time she tried to escape it. A surge of strength boiled up, pushed by adrenaline and with her small fists she began to physically attack the basilisk with all she had while avoiding all means of eye contact.

"Now, now don't get up," Riddle taunted Harry who was trying to lift himself up off the floor. "You didn't think I was going to stand by and let you destroy everything I've worked so hard for."

Buffy was running full force toward Harry now. She had managed to disorient the snake but her strength was waning and she only had so much time before it gave out completely. She pointed her wand at the two boys and was ready to fire her shot when the boy called Tom turned around with Harry's wand at the ready.

"You," he said accusingly. "This wasn't how it was supposed to go. You're ruining it!"  
"Ruining . . . ? What are you talking about?"

His face was tight with anger when he spoke again. Hisses commanding his next order:

"Kill her."

The basilisk vengefully gained speed and before there was a chance to react, slammed its head straight into the back of Buffy's body sending her crashing to the nearest wall.

"Buffy," Harry whispered, watching in horror as her body slumped limply to the floor.

"Girls," Riddle snarled.

Harry regained his strength and got to his feet. His eyes unable to move away from Buffy's still form.

"Two down and one to go." Riddle hissed again, "KILL HIM NOW!"

The basilisk sped on zeroing in on his newly found target. Harry shut his eyes and blindly began to run. Every ounce of attention now on his own need to survive.

* * *

"Ms. Summers, a word," Snape drawled.

She was packing up her things when she heard the order, because it was an order not a request after all.

"What did you do?" Neville whispered.

"Breathe."

Neville smiled and began walking out with the rest of the class. Placing the bag over her shoulder, she made her way up to the Professor, shrugging at Harry's raised eyebrow when they passed.

Snape eyed her critically when she reached the desk trying to find any sign to completely confirm his suspicions. He had pieced together his information from what he saw in the Pensive, but without solid proof they were still suspicions. Not matter how sure of them he may be.

"Ms. Summers, I'd like to talk to you about what happened in the Chamber of Secrets," he said pulling no punches.

Buffy stiffened immediately. Her guard up to the hilt.

"I'm not going to talk about that," she said evenly.

"You're holding on to vital information, I would think someone in your position would understand how severely important knowledge can be when trying to defeat an enemy."

Bringing up her slayerness wasn't going to help like he thought it would, because Buffy knew it was that part of her that made her keenly aware of how to distinct curiosity from necessity. And what slot Snape fit into.

"I can assure you that any information I have is not vital to defeating Voldemort."

Severus blinked on the name. Buffy was one of the few perfectly comfortable saying the Dark Lord's name. From his ideas about what had happened to her he could understand why.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I am."

They were no longer teacher and student. Formalities were still in play, Buffy knew not to cross that line but their exchange was of wartime compatriots. There was no educational ranking to be expected.

"Ms. Summers--"

"Why is this so important to you?" she asked, surprising him. "I don't understand why it is that you _have_ to know. If knowing what happened to me could be the secret to ending Voldemort I would fork over the info in a flash."

"If you know what to look for that is," he said slowly like if she were a child. "You are too close to the incident. Your ties too personal. To have another assess the situation may help to see what you may have missed. Information that may be of critical importance."

"I haven't _missed_ anything. I know what I'm doing."

Snape was about to speak when he noticed she was scratching at her arm. Thinking back on it, she had been scratching her arm throughout the entire class period and only her left forearm in particular.

"Is there something wrong with your arm, Ms Summers?" he asked, his gaze fixated on the appendage.

Buffy immediately stopped her movement. It had been itching like crazy since the bell tolled at the start of class.

"Itch," she stated.

"Your arm," he demanded with a curious expression.

"My what?" she asked, moving her arm behind her back.

"Your arm," he said again a little too eagerly.

"It's probably just a bug bite."

His hand was still out expectantly. She could've ran, could've told him hell no, could've said a lot of things, but he was already suspicious of her as it was and there was no need to give him more ammunition. Besides she had nothing to hide and he would probably take away like a gazillion house points if she said no and would pass it off as her mouthing off to him or something. So with the facts as they were what other choice was there. Buffy frowned as she resentfully moved her arm around and placed it in his cold hand. He took a strong hold of her wrist as if she would escape if he didn't; his suspicious eyes fixed on her arm as he lifted the sleeve of her jumper. Buffy knew what he was expecting to see, and as insulted and miffed as she was, she couldn't help but feel smug when all Snape found was clean bare skin.

"Juniper berries," he said quickly, roughly dropping her arm like it burned. "I believe Pomfrey can assist you with that."

Buffy lowered her sleeve oh so calmly and looked complacently at the sour faced professor.

"I hope you know what you are doing, Ms. Summers," he said gravely. "For the sake of those around you."

"Trust me, Professor, I know exactly what I'm doing," she said with absolute certainty. "I've been doing it for a long time."

That was her cue to leave and Buffy turned around and left the room. Severus watched her go with uneasiness. The multitude of questions still swimming. His spark of curiosity not quelled but burning brighter by today's events.

Buffy put the discussion behind her for the rest of the day. She told those who questioned the after-talk with Snape that it was nothing but a warning against cheating seeing as no one can do as well as Buffy has been doing in Potions after being gone for over two years legitimately. Thankfully the story passed with flying colors. All this lying she was doing, Buffy was sure she was going to end up a politician in her next life. Needing and wanting a distraction from all of the day's proceedings, Buffy had decided to spend the rest of her afternoon with the one person who could do no better job. It had been another thankfully sunny day, so after classes she and Draco settled by the lake with plenty of snacks and conversation on hand to waste the time away.

"Do you ever wonder how it would be if you never left?"

Buffy looked up from her bag of crisps and although the question wasn't surprising it did catch her off guard.

"All the time," she replied, her eyes softer with her words.

Draco lowered his gaze and fiddled with his wand.

"I wish I didn't have to wonder sometimes," he said.

"Me too."

He looked up again and there was a spark of reminisce between them that flowed into little smiles.

"Doubt you'd be friends with Longbottom or Potter or any of the people you consider friends now," he said, helping himself to her snack food.

It would be easy to say that wouldn't it. But Draco didn't know about what happened in the Chamber of Secrets or how much it had changed her. How it dominoed her views on the world. Her views on people. If she would've stayed things wouldn't have been the same that was a fact. That one day had changed her life forever.

"I don't know," she sighed a little. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"Maybe? You wouldn't be hanging around those Gryffindors and you know it."

"Hey, what about you, you're hanging around a Gryffindor," she teased.

"This is different. You're not a Gryffindor you're just . . . Buffy," he grinned.

"I lack a house definition?"

"Better than being defined as a Gryffindor."

Once a Malfoy . . .

"Well, whatever I am as long as I am I guess it doesn't really make much of difference."

"That's very philosophical of you."

"I have my moments."

"Buffy!"

Buffy and Draco turned to the call and found the jogging pair of Neville and Ginny heading towards them. Buffy eye rolling the noise of displeasure that came from her companion upon seeing the sight.

"I'll give you a pony if you make them go away," he said.

"Not even for a stable full of them," she said, and Draco pouted.

"Hey, guys," Buffy greeted the newly arriving pair. "What's up?"

There was none nor will there be any hello's shared between Draco and Ginny and Neville. That was just the kind of life Buffy lead. Two important entities unable to get along with each other. Poetic much.

"We need to talk to you in private," said Ginny.

Buffy didn't like the expression on their faces. It was the kind they got when they saw her the next morning and found her bruised one way or another after slaying.

"Draco, I'll be back," she said without turning to face him, stood up and walked with Ginny and Neville to a spot out of earshot to anyone nearby.

"Neville got a post a few minutes ago," Ginny said straight away and handed her a folded piece of parchment. "There was a note inside of it to deliver this to you."

"To me?" asked Buffy, taking the letter.

"The instructions were from your mum," Neville said. "We didn't open it, but it's supposed to be urgent."

She didn't like the sound of this. The note had been written on parchment paper but the writing originated from the Muggle world. Angel's script was one she would recognize anywhere.

With every word she read, Neville and Ginny watched Buffy's features go from surprised to curious to worry and finally to resolve. Her expression was grim as she quickly folded up the note and tucked into a pocket and she looked at them again with determined eyes.

"I need to go to Sunnydale," she said firmly.

"Sunnydale?" asked Ginny. "Why?"

"What's wrong?"

"I don't . . . I won't know until I get there."

Angel's note was vague but he gave the key points and right now she was needed desperately in the land of demons and sun. And as soon as possible.

"When?" Neville asked.

"Tonight."

The sun set slower than Buffy could remember, and by the time night had come she was anxious to leave the castle.

"Dumbledore has Fawkes at the ready just in case something comes up you don't need to wait for me," Buffy said to the trailing pajama clad Ginny as they came into the common room.

"He has Fawkes ready because of Umbridge but what happens if Hermione, Parvati or Lavender wake up to find you gone?"

"They'll wake up to find the drapes around my bed giving the illusion that I'm snuggly fast asleep."

"Unless they peek through."

"And then what are you gonna do?"

The voices came from the other side of the sofa where the heads of Fred and George suddenly popped up.

"What are you guys doing down here?" Buffy asked.

"We're part of your look out team," Fred smiled proudly.

"Team? There's a team?"

"We need to take turns staying awake until you come back," said Neville who happened to be sitting on the floor by Fred and George surrounded by piles of junk food.

"Guys--"

"You can disagree until you're blue, but we're staying up and that's that," Ginny told her and went to sit next to her brothers.

"Couldn't stop us if you tried," said George.

"It's not like you'll only be slaying in the forest, Buffy," said Neville. "You'll be leaving the grounds. You'll get expelled if you get caught."

"Or something worse if the Ministry finds out," Ginny said.

"We've got our owls waiting in case we need to send a message to Dumbledore," George told her.

"First sign of trouble they're off to our kind Headmaster and Fawkes will be on his way," Fred added.

There they were, her troops. A brunette and a redhead with two to spare. Maybe Luna was right, maybe it was all fate that those knew, knew because they were the exact kind of people she needed. The ones who understood and banded together at a moments notice.

"Wow," she said softly. "This is . . . thanks guys."

They smiled proudly to her and at each other, Fred adding a wink for good measure.

"All right," Buffy said, head on straight and on focused commander mode. "I'll be heading into the forest past the barriers. There's lots of nasty and confusing magic in there, hopefully that'll cloak my magical disappearance from any watchdogs and then I'll be in Sunnydale."

"Who's going to help you Apparate there?" inquired Ginny.

No one. "Remus."

"Good old Remus," said Fred.

Yeah good old Remus, who'll she'll need to let know that he was part of her sneaking out plan after she had snuck out and make promise to either a) not tell her mother or b) help stop her freak out if she does.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Buffy said and left.

It was one in the morning and the halls of Hogwarts were deathly quiet. Months of sneaking out made Buffy efficient in leaving the castle in no time flat with nothing but the extremely low sound of her breathing in the air. The chilly night breeze caused Buffy to zip up the front of her jacket as she briskly walked past the grounds. Quickly and quietly she moved into the deepest parts of the forest where there was so much dark magic from the creatures that inhabited it that it was as good a spot as any to cloak her Apparating. No monsters crawled out of the shadows, no bleach blonde vampires stood in her way, it was almost as though they knew she shouldn't be disturbed. Ever cautious she took one last look around and in the next second she was at the mansion's doorstop.

The sun was already up in Sunnydale and it took a second or two for her eyes to adjust. Impatiently she knocked on the door and waited for it to open.

"Buffy," Angel greeted.

"I got your letter."

He nodded and let her in. They walked silently through the foyer and into the open room with the fireplace.

"How is she?" asked Buffy, turning around and fiddling with her hands agitated.

"She's bottling it up," he answered worriedly. "She won't talk about it."

"She hasn't said anything at all? To anybody?"

He shook his head. "No. She keeps saying she's fine but you can see it . . . she's not handling it well."

This is exactly why Buffy had asked to him to look out for her. Accidents happen, people get hurt and with nowhere to turn to it can drive you mad. You need someone who can understand, who'll be your haven when the world spins off its axis.

"Where is she?"

"Upstairs. Second room on the right."

Buffy rushed up but when she got to the door she paused. She was here but what was she going to say? How can you make this better? Taking a deep breath she knocked on the door, no invitation was made but it would be a miracle if there had been.

"You didn't have to come you know," Faith said in darkness once Buffy had stepped into the room.

"Yeah, well, I was in the neighborhood," she quipped and closed the door behind her.

"What? Scones in Brit-town not doing it for you?"

Buffy walked to the large mahogany bed and sat on the corner of the burgundy sheets.

"How are you?"

"Five by five."

"Right," Buffy mumbled.

Faith sat up against the head board and crossed her arms. She didn't have to come. She was fine just fine. Accidents happen every day. They happen every day. Accidents happen–

"He's going to be fine you know," said Buffy gently. "No major organs were damaged."

"I know," she nodded, attitude with every move.

It was hard trying to talk to a wall of emotion. Especially when you knew that to help you had to break through it.

"Is that it?" asked Faith. "Is that your little pep talk? That's what the Big Guy and the Scoobies brought you over for?"

"They didn't ask me to come here," she said quickly. "I came because I wanted to."

"Why?" she snapped. "You think you can help poor little Faith because she almost killed a guy, don't want her to slip into the bad and turn evil, oh no better save her now before it's too late."

"Faith--"

"Just go," she dismissed easily. " I don't need any psych talk. Go back to your unicorns and mermaids or whatever. I can deal with this on my own, B."

You can't force someone to talk when they didn't want to talk. And Faith didn't want to talk. Buffy stood from the bed and looked at the brunette who was avoiding looking at her. It was like she didn't understand how far this could affect her. She believed that if she ignored it, it would go away. Her snarky responses were lines of defense. Give someone the no care attitude and they'll eventually alone. That's what Faith wanted but it was not what she needed, Buffy was about to leave when she realized it and turned around.

"You know what Faith? No. I'm not going anywhere," she snapped back. If Faith didn't want to talk than she was as hell going to listen. "You almost killed a guy, Faith. Another human being. You pushed a stake into his stomach and he could've bled to death. But guess what? He didn't. He's still alive." Faith watched her intently. It was hard not to when she demanded the attention. "Accidents happen. Okay, I get that. You were out hunting and the Deputy Mayor was at the wrong place at the wrong time. It sucks, but it happens. I'm not here to judge you, o-or to lecture you, or . . . to save you. I'm . . . I . . . " This was hard, she could feel the lump in throat growing bigger by the memories of it — by what she had to say. But it was the only way she knew that would get through to her. "I know what it's like . . . I've been where you are. To . . . to almost kill another human being is not something that can easily be recovered from by sitting in a dark room and pretending the world doesn't exist. It's not going to go away because you want it to." The tightening in her chest was getting to be too much, and she took a few breaths to ease the strain and the pounding nerves. "You have to deal with it. Accept it and move on. There is no other way to come back from it. It happened okay. It . . . happened. And I know . . . I know what it's like t-to have that dirty feeling crawl up inside of you and not want to get out. I've been through it too. But it will and I know that you can get through this. You just have to realize that you're not alone. Ever."

Some people understand better when personal experience is involved. Right now Faith was in that kind of position. She didn't need to hear lectures or orders, she needed someone who could understand. Who's been there. Giles, Willow and Xander didn't know what it was like. Even Angel couldn't fill the same shoes. But Buffy could. They were both girls plucked from their personal definitions of obscurity to save the world when no one else could. They belonged the same exclusive club with its dizzying ups and downs.

"How?" Faith asked. Her voice hushed and open. "How do you move on from something like that?"

Buffy inhaled a deep breath.

"You were both lucky. He didn't die. You can start with that," she said and slowly settled back to the bed. "He's gonna be okay, and you . . . you have to see it that way. You didn't do anything wrong."

They sat silently. Millions of emotions and thoughts running through their heads with a turmoil that seemed to never end.

"He came out of nowhere."

"Usually do."

Faith had been scrubbing her thumb over and over against the palm of her hand. She didn't even know she had been doing it until she looked down and it caught her intrigue. The heat coming off the friction nearly burned through her skin but she kept scrubbing and scrubbing. Until Buffy placed her hands over hers making her stop. Faith looked up at Buffy's silent and understanding expression and after a pause Faith shifted her eyes not able to handle being looked at that way. She crossed her arms to keep her hands as far apart as she could and flashes of what happened couldn't help but come back in the stillness.

"It feels . . . like it's never gonna wash off you know."

"Yeah. I do. But it does . . . eventually."

Buffy was on her last layers of what happened to her. A few more washes and she was sure or hoped to be sure that it would all go down the drain forever. Her layers of dirt were much thicker than Faith's were and if Buffy could pull through that than Faith could definitely pull through this.

"B, this . . . this thing we got going here--"

"Stays here. And hoping it's vice versa."

Faith nodded in the darkness and Buffy let another moment of silence pass before she spoke again.

"How are you feeling now?" she asked. "Two by four?"

And Faith gave a little smile that could be as genuine as she could give; assuring Buffy that Faith was in fact going to pull right through.

Buffy saw Angel standing by the fireplace when she entered the room, his gaze intent on the dancing flames.

"Hey," she said to catch his attention.

He looked up and stepped close to meet her.

"How is she?"

Buffy sighed. "She'll get better. We talked; I think it did some good. I wish I could stay longer to help her more but you know."

"You came. That's enough."

She didn't have to come, Buffy knew that but she also knew it was the best thing to do. That's why when she showed up on his doorstep it wasn't a surprise.

"She's going to have a hard time with this," said Angel.

"I know but that's why you're here," it bothered her to say. "She needs to know that someone is on her side."

"You're on her side."

"And I'm also six-thousand miles away," she reminded him. Not that he needed reminding, he knew how far away she was. "She needs someone who's here. Someone . . . " the word stuck in her throat, "close."

Angel wanted to hold her. Press her against him as hard as he could to release the insecurity he saw in her eyes.

"I'm here if she needs me," he said, staying his distance. "As a friend."

"Thanks," she smiled, the word taking many different meanings.

He nodded as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. He glanced at the clock ticking over the mantel and noticed the hour.

"You should be heading back."

Buffy looked at the moving hands and realized he was very right.

"Any longer and I'll turn into a pumpkin," she said.

"You could always return yourself to normal."

Buffy pulled the wand out of her sleeve and scanned it over. It still felt strange that Angel, or any of her Muggle like friends, knew that she was a witch.

"Figures, I'm my very own Fairy Godmother." She slipped the wand back in its place and readjusted her sleeve. "Um, Angel, before go . . . my mom doesn't know I Apparated here so--"

"Never saw you."

Angel was never one to doubt.

Buffy nodded her thank you and shifted her stance as she readied to leave.

"So, I guess I'll see you," she said with false brightness.

His frown deepened at their parting. "See you."

A smile on her face was the last thing he saw before she popped out and he was left alone once again. He sat down on the sofa and watched the flames crackle and dance in the fireplace all night. Brooding over a slayer he had upstairs and a slayer who had just left. He had heard the conversation Buffy had with Faith, vampire hearing assisting his curiosity, and some of the things Buffy had mentioned made him wonder. '_I know what it's like . . . I've been where you are. To . . . to almost kill another human being is not something that can easily be recovered from by sitting in a dark room and pretending the world doesn't exist. It's not going to go away because you want it to._' Those words were not ones he had ever heard her say. For as long as he knew Buffy she had never come close to almost killing a human. But then again, when it came to her past he was almost clueless. He had never been so intrigued about it before. What had happened to Buffy before she came to Sunnydale?

It was still dark in Scotland but the sky was beginning to lighten in the horizon. Buffy's mind was full of fuzz as she quietly hurried to the castle and into the common room where she found her friends just as she had left them.

"You're back," Neville said thick with drowsiness, lifting his head from the arm of the couch.

"Yep, I'm back," she said removing her jacket.

"How'd it go?" asked Ginny peeking her face out from the side of the chair she was sitting on, her head barely able to be propped up.

"Is everything okay now?" Fred asked, his sleepy head rising from the other side of the sofa and resting his chin on the back of it.

"Yeah, it's okay."

"So, all our planning went to waste?" asked George coming to rest his groggy chin next to his brother's.

"I told you it wasn't necessary," Buffy smiled at all of her soldiers ready to tumble at any second.

"Better safe than sorry," said Ginny.

"Yeah," she mumbled and nodded her head tiredly. "Come on, let's go and try to catch whatever sleep we have left."

The ragtime band dragged themselves to their beds and mostly all collapsed into sleep within seconds.

Buffy had crept into her room, taken off her shoes and buried herself beneath the covers with a swiftness that betrayed her lack of energy. Her mind replayed things she didn't want to see but were inevitable once she had opened the door she swore would remain shut. She focused on Faith to push the other thoughts away. She was in good hands at least Buffy wouldn't have to fret over that too much. She still planned on checking in now more than ever to see how she was doing but that was to be expected. As sleep slowly came in and all coherent thoughts were being muffled away the itch in her arm had started again and right before her dreams had come Buffy had wished she had taken Snape's advice and gotten some Juniper berries. Not that she would admit to taking his advice.

* * *

Note: I couldn't do it, I couldn't have Faith kill anybody. I try my hardest, which is fun most of the time, to keep both time lines and events as close to the verses as possible while interweaving them together but I couldn't have Faith be a murderer in this, especially since she's the only slayer in Sunnydale now and having her go rogue would cause all sorts of madness while Buffy's at Hogwarts and yea, lot of work that would be. On the plus side however, faster update yay me! :)

Now that I've finally revealed the secretes of the Chamber I hope that doesn't stop anyone from reading, because I do have more stuff I promise. And for those who have guesses about Snape's suspicions about our little blonde slayer, and who might be right on the mark, please keep shush ;)

A billion thanks for the continued support of my epic that was never supposed to be an epically long story and for the wonderful reviews I am so giddily grateful for. Hopefully the writing bug will still keep bitting in inspiration.


	56. Chapter 56

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

Every single fiber was black. From the tips of her shoes to the lace on her hats. And it was all irreversible.

Dolores Umbridge woke up one bright morning to find that every single piece of her clothing was black. Every accessory and every shoe was black. The whole of her wardrobe was BLACK! It took the use of every strong stomach muscle she had to prevent her from spewing out the vile her anger produced when she tried and failed to return the pretty pink coloring to her things. She refused to look at her reflection as she dressed and the strap on her left shoe nearly snapped off when she angrily pulled it through the buckle. She was close to writing the whole day off and staying indoors until she could rectify the situation, but she was not going to give the person responsible the satisfaction.

Umbridge walked through the halls with her head held high, firmly ignoring the whispers and chuckles of those she passed. Though most of the noise seemed to be drowned out by the sharp click-clack of her heels nonetheless.

"Ginny went to see if she was awake, but when she got there her bed was already empty," Neville told Fred and George as they walked through the halls.

"You know it's not good when Buffy's up early," said George.

"Very bad sign indeed," said Fred.

They had just stepped onto the ground floor when they crossed paths with the most amusing sight.

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge," Fred grinned.

"Having a lovely day are we," smiled George.

"I know you two are the ones behind this," she said tightly.

"Us?" they chorused with their innocent expressions.

"Do not play the innocent act with me," she warned. "I know perfectly well what you two are capable of. I don't know how you managed to destroy my possessions but--"

"Honestly, Professor we had nothing to do with this."

"We were in our rooms all night."

"We wish we could take the credit."

"We really do."

"But it seems you might have another prankster on your hands."  
"A much sneaker one at that."

"Proof," she said quickly, quieting the two. "Prove to me you were in your dormitories all night."

"Well we got an eye witness right here, don't we Neville," said Fred and wrapped his arm around the innocent bystander.

"W-what?" he stuttered in his confusion.

"You can vouch for our whereabouts can't you?"

"W-well, y-yes."

"And where were we last night?"

"I-in the d-dormitory."

"And there you go."

"Out of the mouths of Longbottoms."

Umbridge's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"And am I supposed to take the word of one of your _friends_?" she asked, eyeing Neville in distaste.

"Unless there's a spy somewhere in the Gryffindor Tower."

"I don't see any other option."

The blood boiled up to the surface, and Umbridge's face went absolutely scarlet. Her eyes became nothing but dark slits.

"This will not be tolerated," she said coldly. "I'd watch my steps very carefully if I were you."

The click-clack of her heels bounced louder as she stormed off, and George and Fred smiled even more.

"Did-Did you do it?" asked Neville.

The Twins turned to him and they each slapped a hand onto Neville's shoulders.

"Of course we did."

"You and Buffy upped the ante."

"We have to stay ahead."

"We do have reputation to protect you know."

Neville smiled as he shook his head and the three of them walked off to get some breakfast and check on the well being of a little blonde slayer.

* * *

Buffy hadn't sneaked into this corner of the library in quite a while. The quiet nook had been her haven at the beginning of the year when she had no one to talk to and it served as an escape to her loneliness. But right now she was eager to embrace all the lonely she could take in. All day she had been preoccupied with worry over Faith and the constant resurfacing of her horrible memories. Her friends all saw the metaphorical grey cloud hovering over her head. In the morning she had revealed to them why she had gone to Sunnydale, keeping certain things like there being more than one slayer and exactly what that second slayer had done private of course, and when they understood her gloom they let her be. Which was why she was currently sitting all alone in her corner table at the moment.

Slaying was usually the best alternative in keeping her mind busy in times of mental overload but seeing as the sun was up and everyone was awake and roaming around the grounds hunting demons was not exactly an option. So studying for exams and doing homework it was.

She was left alone for the most part but had been checked on two times and received one snack drop off since arriving at her sanctuary, and when she felt a presence coming near she figured Luna was taking her turn in making sure she was still alive and breathing. What a surprise it was when she saw looked up to find Harry Potter drop himself into the seat across from her. He didn't say anything as he stretched across the table with an open hand, reached behind her ear and in the next second pulled it back with a sickle nestled in his fingers.

"Tada!" he exclaimed and handed it to her.

"That's some pretty heavy magic there," she smiled.

"Fred and George taught me that. Would you believe it took me weeks to learn?"

"Yes, I would actually."

She was about to hand the coin back when he shook his head.

"Keep it," he said. "Think of it as payment."

"Payment?"

"For your thoughts."

The foul mood must've been more obvious than she thought.

"My thoughts are definitely not worth a sickle."

"Maybe not but that's all I had in my pocket," he jokingly said.

Buffy stared at the shiny silver coin as she fiddled with it. Light bounced off the metal with every little turn, and for a while there Harry felt like he was being hypnotized. He snapped out if it before he somehow started clucking like a chicken and moved his attention back to Buffy.

"It's nothing major," she said, sensing his eyes on her. "One of my friends is kinda under the weather right now."

"You mean the ones in California?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

"What's wrong? I-If-If you don't mind my asking."

Well, Harry there are so many, many things that are wrong. "She's just dealing with some heavy stuff right now and I don't like being far away while she's going through it. I mean she's in good hands but . . . still, you know."

Buffy saw him nod from beneath her lashes and he didn't ask anymore questions. There were other thoughts preoccupying her too, ones that couldn't just be shared with anybody. But Harry wasn't just anybody, and they were alone, no one was around and she was in a state where she really wanted to relieve some of the burden she carried to someone who could understand.

"I've been thinking about the Chamber of Secrets a lot lately," she said, watching him.

He had been staring at his hands to keep his eyes occupied but when he heard her words he quickly snapped his attention to her. They rarely talked about that night. Once in the hospital wing when he told her what happened after she couldn't remember, and two maybe three times in the letters they wrote.

"How come?" he asked.

She gave a delicate almost uncaring shrug. "Dreams. They've been sneaking in recently and stay inside my head the next morning. Kinda hard to get them out after that."

"Do you dream about it often?"

"It pops in every so months, but now . . . it's been like every so days."

"It's getting pretty close to when it happened, maybe that's why."

"Maybe," she nodded but didn't particularly agree, "or maybe it's my subconscious forcing me to face it all and move past."

He became confused by that. "I thought you have."

Oh, that's right he thought she had because she told him she had. Well foot-in-mouth disease seems to have stricken again.

"I lied," she sheepishly confessed.

He gave her the kind of look he was so used to receiving from Hermione when she found out he was procrastinating on his homework, and Buffy gave the kind of look she usually gave Giles whenever she got caught skipping out early on slaying so she could party at the Bronze.

Harry's features swiftly changed to ones of determination and Buffy watched in confusion as he closed her scattered books, stacked her parchments and put them all aside.

"What are you doing?"

He crossed his arms over the table and said sternly, "I am going to help you move past and this time no lies."

* * *

"I bet she's turning him against us."

Hermione ignored him and continued to scribble down her notes.

"She can do that to people you know. She's been doing it to everybody since she got here."

But she could feel the annoyance starting to build.

"She's hiding something. That's why she's doing it. She's trying to get everyone one on her side so they won't see it."

And build and build . . .

"You I know bet--"

. . . until SNAP!

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione huffed. "If you spent as much time on your studies as you do on your conspiracies about what Buffy may or may not be doing you'd be passing your lessons with flying colors."

Ron watched in bewilderment as Hermione roughly gathered her books and parchment from the table.

"What's got your broom in a knot?" he asked.

"You," she said. "Incessantly rambling on about Buffy this and Buffy that." It was annoyance, yes that was it. Nothing else but sheer irritation of having Ron going on about Buffy when he should be studying. That's what Hermione kept telling herself. "Don't you think it's time you left it alone already?"

Ron couldn't help but feel the sudden cold stream of betrayal sneaking in.

"She's gotten to you too hasn't she," he accused.

"What?"

"She's gotten you to her side."

"Don't be silly, Ron," she said, rising from her sitting position by the table she was working on.

"You're defending her aren't you?"

"What I'm doing is getting tired of hearing you complain all the time."

Ron couldn't help but let the five-year-old pout make its charming presence. "I don't complain that much."

And Hermione couldn't help but give a very rare snort in disagreement. "You don't complain that much? That's all you've been doing since she got here."

Ron crossed his arms and pouted even more, which caused Hermione to roll her eyes at his immaturity. She slung her bag over her shoulder and was about to cross the common room to the stairs when she heard his almost inaudible voice.

"You're supposed to be on my side remember."

And she stopped. She was on his side, always will be, that was never going to change but lately . . . a great many things have been brought to light, and Hermione was not one to ignore facts.

"I think Harry was right," she said, facing him. "Maybe there are no sides."

"What?"

"Think about it, Ron," she continued more gently. "Buffy has not behaved cruel once since returning to Hogwarts, as a matter of fact she's been rather nice to everyone. I really believe that . . . maybe she has changed."

Hermione did try to hold onto her original believes about Buffy. That she was the same spiteful girl she had been, who taunted and teased in the cruelest ways for her own amusement, but she couldn't deny the evidence any longer. With each passing day Hermione noticed the complete change in Buffy's character, and the more evident it became the harder it was to deny.

"It's a trick," he said rapidly, not wanting to give his mind enough time to think her words through, because there was a tiny little chance that she might be right. "You told me you thought that once yourself."

"Maybe I was wrong."

No, no this . . . this wasn't happening.

"What about her spying for Umbridge? Or the fact that she told her about the meeting at the Hog's Head?"

Hermione took a deep breath, knowing that what she was going to say was not what Ron wanted hear. "I think . . . that maybe we might've been wrong about that too."

"You mean-- maybe _I_ was wrong," he said, his anger now evident.

"Ron, that's not--"

"You see what she's doing don't you? She's trying to turn us against each other."

"I don't--"

"She started with Neville and then Ginny and Fred and George and now--"

"Ron," she cut him sternly. "That's not– I don't think that's what she's doing. No one's turned their back on you, in fact I think they've all been fairly patient. Everyone who's befriended her has stayed neutral. They haven't made you choose or pick sides. You have to see that don't you?"

Hermione was always right. That kind of always bothered him a little, but he couldn't deny it when she was. Not one person had turned their back on him or demanded he force himself to be friends with Buffy or else. If anything he's been the one shying away. But he couldn't help it. Buffy was evil. And evil people were allowed to be complained about. The saddest part however, the part he never told anybody about, was that the whole situation was making him feel utterly alone. It felt like all these people were joining this new club he wasn't allowed into. Sure it was all his doing, and he wasn't about to abandon his feelings just to feel accepted, but the isolation it resulted in was not something he had expected. Though, from the start he always felt that he at least had Hermione. She was the only other person who stood by his side through this, agreed with his position, but lately it felt like he was losing her and that terrified him.

"What about you?" he asked quietly.

"What about me?"

"Are you her friend now too?"

"No," she replied honestly, "but I'm not her enemy either."

It was enough to mollify his fears.

The pair became quiet amidst the noisy people around them, and Ron took that time to contemplate everything he knew about Buffy. He hated, hated to admit that _maybe_ she had changed. She was nice and friendly now, as it had been pointed out. And although he and Buffy didn't speak, at all, didn't share smiles or greetings, Buffy was never rude or mean once. But even through all that . . .

"I still think she's hiding something."

. . . Ron still didn't trust her. Maybe she was or wasn't spying for Umbridge. Maybe she was or wasn't planning on becoming Death Eater. There were too many maybes and they may have been far fetched, but he knew in his bones that Buffy Summers was hiding something. The frightening part was not knowing what and that discouraged from even trying to befriend her.

"To be honest, so do I," Hermione agreed.

The portrait opened and Ron and Hermione silently watched as Harry and Buffy walked in smiling and talking, stopping at the end of the staircase that lead to the girl's dormitory.

"I still think you should tell Dumbledore," said Harry.

"I could say the same thing about you." The moment she said it Harry's frown appeared. "Your dreams are way more important than mine and you know it. After what Snape told you about your connection to Voldemort don't you think that the dreams you're having could actually be dangerous. If Voldemort realizes the connection between you two he could take advantage of it to try and control you. Do you really want him walking around in there deranging your inner workings?"

Of course he didn't want that and it scared the living hell out him thinking about it. But what was Dumbledore going to do; he had been distancing himself from Harry all year. The Headmaster was probably scared to be around him. Untrusting of Harry and his freak link to the most evil wizard in existence. So why should Harry go crying to someone who couldn't even look him in the eye.

"You sound like Snape," he grumbled, pushing down the hurt feeling that resulted from his internal thoughts.

Buffy immediately shuddered. "Never say that again."

It was interesting to watch. Harry and Buffy looked completely comfortable with each other. Not like two people who were just becoming friends but two people who appeared as though they've known each other for years. How very interesting.

"It's curious isn't it," said Hermione. "They way they've bonded so easily."

"And quickly," Ron pointed out. "You don't think they've been friends all this time do you?"

She eyed the pair carefully. They were no more than a few inches apart. Their bodies were relaxed and they shared more than one smile in between.

"I don't know, but it sure looks that way doesn't it."

They kept on staring as Buffy and Harry exchanged a few more unheard words before Buffy climbed the stairs and Harry made his way in their direction.

"Hi," he greeted.

"Hi," Hermione said.

"So what are the chances of you being honest with us about you and Buffy?" asked Ron, and Hermione wondered if tact was a word Ron was unfamiliar with.

The unusual question caused Harry to look inquisitively at the two. "What are you talking about?"

"Ron and I just find it a little strange that the two of you have become so close somewhat quickly," Hermione replied cautiously.

The inevitable question had arrived. Harry knew that they would ask about it sooner or later. To the unknowing it would appear odd that two people who used to hate each other as kids and then to not see each other for years suddenly become close. It would make anyone a little suspicious.

"It wasn't quickly," he confessed. "After what happened in the Chamber of Secrets, I visited her once or twice while she was in the hospital wing." Or five or six. "And we wrote to each other a few times." Or a few hundred times. "And when she returned this year we slowly started talking again."

"You wrote to her?" Ron asked, almost demanded.

"Why didn't you tell us?" asked Hermione.

"I didn't see a reason to," he said plainly, unintentionally making his friends feel like they've been snubbed.

"You mean it was none of our business," said Hermione.

By Hermione's tone of voice and Ron's scowl Harry knew they had misconstrued the meaning behind his words.

"I didn't mean it that way," he said.

"But you did mean it was none of our business," said Ron.

Okay this was quickly heading in a very bad direction. How did--hold on, why did he need to explain anything? They were the ones attacking him. Acting like Harry didn't deserve a right to his privacy. Like he didn't get to decide who he should be friends with. As a matter fact . . .

"All right, yea it was none of your business," said Harry to the astonishment of his friends. "Look, you weren't there, you don't know what happened down in the Chamber. She tried to save my life," he said and then focused on Ron. "She saved Ginny's life."

"She hexed her," he bluntly pointed out. "Buffy could've killed her."

"She saved her life," he repeated. "Buffy could've left her there. Could've let Ginny look in the basilisk's eyes but she didn't. She stayed and saved Ginny when she didn't have to."

Those were the facts. If Ron wanted to believe them or not was completely up to him. Harry knew what kind of person Buffy was and he wasn't about to stop being her friend after what they've been through for an old rivalry that started when boys picked their noses and girls still had the lurgy.

"I don't need to apologize and I don't want to talk about this anymore," Harry said tiredly. "I'm going to bed."

He turned around and went upstairs. Leaving his friends stunned in his wake.

"I don't like the way this is turning out," said Hermione. "And before you say anything I still don't think Buffy is turning him against us."

"I wasn't . . . " Oh who was he kidding. "Well, how do you know she's not?"

"Because everything he said was true," she replied. "What she did for Ginny and Harry. They both told us the exact same thing after it happened and I don't see any reason for them to lie." And although it bothered her to admit. "I think it's perfectly understandable if Harry decided to stay in contact with her after she left Hogwarts. They did share a traumatic experience after all. Being so close to death. That would bring any two people closer together. And no matter what we think . . . it is his personal business."

It took a mighty big person to admit to that, and certain people just needed a little more time in getting there.

"Understandable maybe, but why didn't he tell us about it?" asked Ron.

"You mean because we were so understanding about it a few minutes ago?"

Well if she was going to say it like that. "All right, I get your point."

Hermione was right before. He definitely didn't like the way this was turning out. He was barely getting used to the idea of Harry and Buffy becoming _friends_ and now it turns out they had been _friends_ for a lot longer than anyone ever knew. What a revealing year this was turning out to be.

_Look, you weren't there, you don't know what happened down in the Chamber_ . . . _She saved Ginny's life_ . . . _She hexed her. Buffy could've killed her_ . . . _Could've let Ginny look in the basilisk's eyes but she didn't_ . . . And how didn't she? According to Ginny, Buffy had cast a spell that left her unconscious so that she was unable to look the basilisk in the eyes. How did Buffy know which spell to use? She was only a second-year when it happened and that type of magic was considered too dangerous to be taught to young students. How did she learn it? When did she learn it? The current line of thought caused a chain reaction. Hermione's head filled with even more questions that hadn't occurred to her before, but were all too important now.

"Dumbledore said Buffy was possessed by Riddle's diary before she went down into the Chamber," she said, her eyes lowered and unfocused.

"Yeah so?"

"So, when did Buffy get a hold of the diary?" Her gaze met Ron's and when the words left her mouth she could see the wheels slowly starting to turn inside his head as well. "Ginny never left it out of her sight. She said so herself. The only time she didn't have it was when she tried to rid of it in the girl's bathroom and then Harry found it, but then she got it back. So, how did Buffy get possessed when--"

"When she didn't have the diary in the first place," Ron concluded. Why hadn't they figured this out before? Then it hit him, because they trusted Dumbledore completely and what he said was taking as fact-- end of the discussion, and that made him wonder. "But why didn't Dumbledore tell us the truth? Why would he lie?"

The more Hermione thought about it the more she feared the answer.

"Maybe because the truth is more horrific than the lie," she said gravely.

Ron found that very hard to believe.

"Being possessed by You-Know-Who," he said as a reminder, "how much more horrific could it get?"

* * *

The screams. The screams were everywhere. Bouncing off the walls. Embedded in the ground. Filling up the senses. And it was the most wondrous sound.

Each wave of the wand brought a new symphonic note to the orchestra. Another life that had been taken. A life that should've been taken! The world needed to be cleansed of dirty mudbloods, traitors and filthy Muggle sympathizers. Their disgusting kind had no use in the Wizarding World. They needed to be murdered. Extinguished. Terminated. Their bodies to become nothing but husks. And their souls . . . their souls did not wish to rest.

Faces of the innocent twisted and turned like smog. Their spirits enveloping themselves around their murderer. Their killer. Faces transparent and deformed in agony. Mouths wretched opened in permanent scream. It was becoming too much. There was no veil now. It was all bared to an innocent who did not know. Who was paying the price of being pushed to the shadows. The screams were not beautiful anymore. They were sick and painful. Horrid anguish sounds.

And the blood.

The blood that dripped and splattered. The blood that covered both hands tainting them forever. Thick and warm liquid that crawled higher and higher. The color becoming darker and darker burning a trail in its path . . .

Buffy sat up gasping desperately for breath. The burning was like fire scorching through her skin. The memory of the nightmare muted by the tormenting pain. The agony of the burn was the only thing she could feel. She repeated the mantra over and over in her head: _don't scream_, _don't scream_, _don't scream_. She bit her bottom lip brutally to keep her cries from being heard and waking up the other girls who would only ask questions she did not want to answer. Using all the stealth her body possessed she quietly pulled back the heavy curtain and left her bed in the dead of night; swiftly running to the bathroom and locking the door. The whimpers came as she hastily turned the cold tap to its limit. Closing her eyes as the freezing water ran over the fire on her flesh. The icy water prickled against her hot skin before the pain slowly began to ease. Buffy sighed in relief as the torture was becoming numb. Then . . . the pain . . . was gone. All gone and Buffy relaxed. Grabbing a nearby towel she quickly wiped her arm dry. Intently watching as the skull and snake slithered and pulsed angrily before the Dark Mark finally disappeared beneath her skin once again.

* * *

Notes:

Juniper Berries: Relieves itchy skin.

After much wrestling with my pride, I've finally decided to ask for help and am currently seeking a beta for future and past postings. Grammar, spell check, missing or double words are my enemies, but as you can tell I have a tendency to make up my own words sometimes and I'm set in stone on that, just FYI.

Back to the story . . . dun dun dun! Great spot to leave it at right ;)

Thanks to everyone for the reviews! Freaking amazing of all you :) And thanks for the continued support of this seemingly endless story. You're all the coal of my choo-choo train. Ha, choo-choo :)


	57. Chapter 57

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

She tried to ignore it. But it kept coming back. It would not leave her alone.

Buffy walked into the Headmaster's office during lunch and over to the desk where he sat. Silently she lifted her left sleeve and showed him the Dark Mark that reappeared once again. Dumbledore's eyes widened at the sight. He looked up to her face and then back at the symbol again before he stood up and gently took a hold of her wrist. His eyes intently surveying the slithering and pulsating skull and snake.

"I thought it was dormant," he said.

"It was," she replied. "Until recently."

The acidic ink burned her skin, but Buffy went past the pain. There wasn't anything else she could do.

"When did it start again?"

She sighed, internally recalling the time line before answering.

"I'm not sure, but . . . I think it started when he came back. And it's becoming more frequent than before."

His blue eyes turned grave and he released her arm.

"He's been summoning you."

"I know."

She had known since it started coming back. She knew what it meant every time it appeared.

"Have you told anyone else?"

"No," she shook her head, "no one. I don't want anyone else to know."

The constant reappearance of the Dark Mark lately was what had really brought back the memories of the Chamber, and the horrible memories of what happened before that. What she had done when she was only twelve years old. What she had been forced to do without her knowledge.

"This won't stop until we know why he chose you in the first place."

The mark had been on Buffy's arm when her unconscious form was brought up from the Chamber of Secrets. No one knew except for Dumbledore, her mother and shortly before he left, her father. They were all shocked at the appearance and even more so when it disappeared without reason. Buffy had been told about what happened, from what they knew, when her health and strength had been recovered, and when the Dark Mark appeared again on her small arm she knew then that what she couldn't remember was something so horrifying that her subconscious tried to protect her from it until she was ready. There had been an infinite amount of questions without inklings of an answer . . . at least until now. Buffy's dream about what happened with Ginny triggered all of her memories like a domino effect and the puzzle had slowly come together. She finally knew everything that had happened her second year and most importantly the reason why and she damned every part of her existence for it.

"I know why," she confessed softly, and Dumbledore became still. "And it's not going to stop."

* * *

"We're sorry," said Hermione as she sat down to his right.

"For the most part," added Ron, settling to his left.

Harry had been sitting alone during lunch. He had not spoken to either Hermione or Ron since last night. He was sick of defending himself when he didn't have to, and was not interested in sparking another fight. But he wasn't going to be the one to speak first either. Petty? Yes it was. But so what, he deserved to be petty sometimes didn't he?

"What are you sorry for exactly?" he asked.

"Everything," Hermione replied. "You were right. Whatever relationship you've had or have with Buffy is none of our business. Right, Ron?"

Ron stayed silent, and Harry couldn't help but smile at his friend's stubbornness.

"Ron!"

"Yeah, whatever," he mumbled under his breath. He looked over at Harry out of the corner of his eye and grinned. Anything to irritate Hermione. Ron would pull her pigtails if she had any.

"We are sorry, Harry," Hermione said once again.

Harry gave her a curt nod and that was that. They knew they were wrong and that's all Harry needed to know. They were eating quietly in their comfort zone again when Harry announced a questionable decision out of the blue.

"I'm thinking of asking Buffy to join the DA."

The fork was halfway to Ron's mouth when it froze and Hermione was lucky she just swallowed her food or she might've choked on it.

"A-are you sure?" she asked.

"Very sure."

Shocked silence was better than outraged screaming and after a while Ron was the first one to step through the sound barrier.

"If I said I hated that idea would it make a difference?" he asked.

"No," answered Harry.

"Okay, then I'll still say it," he nodded determined. "I hate that idea."

"If you would've said you loved it, then I would've been worried."

Hermione remained silent.

Ron had given in so easily, but that was only because a few weeks ago he had firmly decided not to intervene on the whole Buffy and Harry friendship, last night being an exception for obvious reasons of course. Harry and Buffy were friends, Ron accepted that now because he realized that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. A victim of circumstance. But no matter how much animosity he felt he was still determined to step outside the line for Harry's sake and remain quiet about his displeasure of the friendship, however that was not to say that he trusted Buffy, which he didn't at all. A fact that Hermione had whole-heartedly agreed with, which was why Harry's revelation that he might ask Buffy to join the very secret D.A. made her extremely wary.

"Harry, are you absolutely sure about this?"

Harry sighed. "Yes, Hermione."

"It's just . . . I don't trust her, Harry," she confessed. "I think she's hiding something. And I accept that you're friends, I really do, and that she's different now, but when it comes to the D.A. I think we should be extremely careful about who we let it in."

Harry sighed again, but this time it held a contemplative note. "I still have a lot of questions about her. There are some things that I don't understand. I still don't know why she returned, and every time we talk . . . it feels like she's holding back, but . . . remember what Trelawney told her at the start of the year during Divination. She said something to Buffy, something like 'she had to do it', that 'there was no other way'. Buffy ran out of the classroom and didn't leave her room for the rest of the day because of it. What Trelawney said really affected her." They remembered it. That was the day that had caused the first unwanted crack in Ron's resistant resolve and had given Hermione the courage to extend a quick olive branch, before she snapped it back a few days later. "I know I said we wrote to each other after she left but . . . one day she suddenly stopped without an explanation. When she came back I asked her why she stopped writing and she told me it was because she was going through something, some bad things by the way she sounded." _Life. The hard, messed up, crazy kind . . . I lost myself for a while and I let so many things slip away from me_. He can still remember the sullen look on her face, the tired note in her voice when she told him. "I know Buffy's hiding something. But I don't care. Whatever it is it seemed to have hurt her and she's still not over it. Just because she's hiding something, it doesn't mean it's something bad. Whatever she's hiding, it seems to be something painful."

Suspicious minds always lead to a sentence of guilty before proven innocent. Isn't that nice?

Never, not once had Ron ever considered that the secret he knew Buffy was hiding was for self preservation. Every time he thought about it he always imagined it to be some sort scheming plan full of evil deceptions. This whole realization that Buffy was an actual human being with feelings was getting a little irritating. How was he supposed to continue hating her when his opinions kept being shattered and whirling in a different direction?

"I guess, I never thought about it that way," Hermione said. The words may have made sense but it was still a 50/50 chance. They still had to be cautious. Buffy was still a mystery and you had to tread carefully on what was unknown. "If you wish to invite her, it's your decision, Harry, but I feel we should still be very careful about it." Harry opened his mouth ready to speak when she cut him off. "I know, I know but you have to at least agree with me on this. She's friends with Draco. She may trust him, but we don't. If she tells him about the D.A. with nothing but good intentions, Draco may break her trust and tell Umbridge. If you want to invite her I'll have no qualms about it, but you have to be aware that there are still risks involved."

Harry didn't think of that. He looked over his shoulder to where Draco was sitting with Blaise and Goyle at the Slytherin table. They were laughing in that sinister way that they always seemed to laugh in. No, he definitely didn't think about that all. Harry turned back and mulled it over a little more before he decided.

"I'm still willing to take the risk."

Hermione nodded. "Okay."

And Ron didn't say anything at all.

They were back to normal. The three amigos were side by side again. After lessons were over and changing into some more comfortable clothing they headed to the Pitch. Hermione and an envious Harry accompanying Ron to the stadium so he could practice his flying. The closer they got the more people they noticed looking up at the sky and talking excitedly. Very, very strange . . .

"What's going on?" Harry asked, as they stopped next to Ginny, Neville and Luna.

They pointed up and there Buffy was. Zooming over the stadium at break neck speeds that a Cleansweep shouldn't be capable of, and all three of their mouths dropped open.

"She's been on it for the past forty-five minutes," said Ginny. "Nonstop."

"She said she hasn't ridden a broom since her second year," Neville said just as everyone flinched when Buffy dipped dangerously low to the ground before pulling the broom back into the air. "A-apparently she's planning on making up for lost time."

"Or trying to give us a heart attack," Ginny commented, wincing as Buffy did another spiral turn.

"She's good," admired Ron out loud and then flustered when he saw every turn to look at him strangely at the compliment. "Er, uh, you know for someone wh-who hasn't been on a broom for, uh, for three years."

Harry smiled and looked back up. "She is good. I wonder why she didn't try out for Qudditch."

"I asked her to when they were holding tryouts but she said sports weren't her thing," Ginny told him.

"Too bad, she could've been very--"

Ginny suddenly inhaled sharply. "Buffy!"

It was going great. After talking things over with Dumbledore a grumpy Buffy was vehemently in search of a distraction. And found it in the broom closet. She hadn't been up in the air in so long where it was quiet and the air was fresh. She quickly borrowed the closest one she could get her hands on, brushed off the warnings of her friends of being careful since it's been a long while since she had flown and kicked off the ground. It was just like riding a bicycle. Only better. While coasting through the air the daredevil in her couldn't help but come out and play. She spun, turned, dipped to her adrenaline's desire. It was going great. Until her broom took on a mind of its own. Mid glide the broom suddenly began to jerk. Left, right, up, down, this way and that. Her neck whipped in so many different directions that Buffy was afraid it would pop at any second. She knew what had happened, her broom had been bewitched; she was no longer in control. Everything was moving too fast. It was dizzying her vision and shaking up her senses. Someone else had decided to take her well being into their hands. No! That was not going to happen. She could get through this. There was no way she was going to let some evil person down there decided her fate. She had enough people doing that for her already. Okay, clear your head Buffy . . . breathe . . . clear head. If only the broom would stay still long enough for her to think straight. She knew her limited options. She could stay on here until she passed out from the dizziness. She could wait until someone fixed her little problem. Or she could . . . be extremely grateful that she's a vampire slayer.

Everyone panicked on the ground below. Too engrossed in the scene that no one thought to notify a teacher. And suddenly they all cried out in horror, Buffy had slipped off the broom and was dangling from the handle. Harry swiftly grabbed Ron's broom and positioned himself ready to fly up to save her. And he was going to too if only . . .

Buffy had taken a firm grip of the broom with her right hand and after taking a good deep breath she slipped her body off the handle and dangled several feet above the ground. She tried to steady herself as much as she could and swung back and forth through the air. Here goes nothing; on her last forth Buffy threw her entire body into the atmosphere, soared across the sky on a wingless flight before diving down headfirst and folded into graceful tumbles prior to landing cleanly on her feet right back on steady land. She breathed deeply on her safe return and casually readjusted her skirt and jumper that had suffered through the journey. Looking up she saw the broom just as it began to fall. With an open palm she stuck out her arm right and the broom fell neatly into her hand. Well that was a cinch. Her senses now sorted out, Buffy finally looked around her and she noticed that everyone was staring. What? Did she have something on her face?

Did she just . . . Did she actually . . . What. The hell. Was THAT?

No one moved. No one spoke. No one felt anything except for shock and disbelief.

With a firm hold on the broom Buffy walked over to the gaggle of Slytherin girls who had melted out of the shadows. She walked straight to an opened mouth Pansy Parkinson and shoved the broom into her hands causing the Slytherin's wand to fall into the grass.

"Nice try. Maybe next time you'll be able to do a _real_ spell," Buffy said and walked away.

Pansy's face tightened in absolute rage. Weeks and weeks of studying that stupid jinxing spell, weeks and weeks of waiting for Buffy to ride a broom and this is how it all turned out! She threw the broom into the ground and stalked off. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

"Pansy you forgot your--!"

"Just pick the bloody thing up, Tracey," Daphne ordered, and Tracey did as she was told, picking up Pansy's abandoned wand.

"She's going to be in a mood," said Millicent.

"Pansy's been in a mood ever since Buffy came back, why bother changing now."

They trailed after their Slytherin leader back to the castle. Waiting to hear what sort of plan Pansy was cooking up next.

"I could kill you for that," said Ginny, once Buffy was within earshot.

"You've gone completely out of your mind haven't you?" Neville said.

"I thought you were wonderful," said Luna dreamily.

"Wonderful?!" Neville and Ginny exclaimed.

"It was so graceful, like a bird."

"It was idiotic is what it was," Harry said. "You do realize you could've died."

"Hardly," Buffy flippantly disagreed.

"What do you mean _hardly_? You fell--"

"I didn't fall I jumped."

"You jumped?" asked Hermione.

"It was either that or get tossed off. My way was safer."

"Safer? You call jumping hundreds of feet safer?!" Harry said.

"Hundreds of feet? Really?" Buffy asked of no one particular.

"That's what you're wondering about?!"

Buffy had done a selfish thing. She saved her own life. Okay, so it wasn't really selfish but she wasn't one to wait around for help and when she made up her mind to jump off the broom the worry of those close to her wasn't one she considered. Now it was time to deal with those consequences.

"Okay, let's all just chill here," she said in a calming voice. "Yes, I jumped. Yes, it was dangerous. And yes, it was a stupid thing to do, but let's look at the results here not the cause okay. I'm still in one piece and breathing. So no harm no foul right?" No one said anything and some were still glaring. Apparently there was foul. Cooling off period? Yes please. "Okay I'm just gonna . . . go . . . get some water . . . take a walk . . . glue my feet to the ground

She backed away slowly until there was enough safe distance to briskly walk speed off. Time to make herself invisible now.

"How can she be so calm about this?" Hermione asked. "She could've ended up in a coma."

"And that's the best case scenario," said Harry.

"Has she gone out of her mind? She could've been caught," Ginny whispered low enough for only Neville and Luna to hear. "I mean don't get me wrong, I'm glad she's not spinning around on the broom of death anymore but she could've at least been subtle about getting off the thing."

"Buffy doesn't like feeling helpless, if she can save herself she will," said Neville. "I just wish she would've waited until someone removed the jinx and brought her down safely." He quickly glanced to Harry, Hermione and Ron. "We're just lucky they haven't figured it out yet."

"The broom shouldn't be left on the ground like that," Luna said out of the blue. She walked over to the abandoned object and picked it up. "Someone might trip."

"I think it's safe to leave it where it is. Brooms are left here all the time," said Ginny. Their voices louder over the grown distance.

"People only see what they want to see, if they aren't paying close enough attention they might miss something very important," she replied. "It's regretful to ignore important things."

With the broom in her hand she walked off to the broom shed, and once again left people confused with her words.

"That was odd," said Harry.

"You get used to it," Neville said.

"From the sound of it, I don't think Luna was only talking about the broom," said Hermione.

"Knowing that is the easy part, trying to figure out what she's really talking about is what drives you crazy," Ginny said.

"So what was she talking about?" Harry asked.

"Who knows," she shrugged. "But we've learned to sort of ignore it for the sake of our sanity."

She jumped. Just like that. It was bloody brilliant! Ron couldn't snap out of his astonishment. While those around him jabbered on about who knows what all he could think about was what Buffy had done. She jumped off the bloody broom, dove through the air and survived unscathed! He can't believe she—wait! What the hell was he thinking? Is he actually feeling . . . admiration? Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. Admiration was a positive feeling. Buffy was not supposed to evoke positive feelings. Those were bad feelings. Ron was having enough trouble dealing with his current contradictory feelings as it is he didn't need to add any more ammunition. He'll forget what he saw, yeah that's it. He'll forget it ever happened. Nice day today isn't it? Birds and clouds . . . wonder what's for lunch tomorrow . . .

Buffy made it all the way to the castle without any questions. There were stares of course. The grapevine had gotten hold of her little escapade and the whispers where whispering. She should've stayed on the broom.

"Is it true? Did you really jump?" asked a tiny voice behind her. Buffy turned around and there Susie was with her wide blue eyes.

"How--?"

"Everybody's talking about it," she said excitedly. "They said you were a thousand feet in the air when your broom went out of control and that you jumped off and landed on your feet. Just like a cat!"

"It wasn't a thousand feet."

"So you did jump!"

This girl had a serious attraction to dangerous stunts. First Quidditch and now the 'Buffy and the broom' moment, as it shall be called from now on. Buffy was sure glad Susie was a first year and therefore banned from playing Quidditch but god help them when the time comes.

"Yes, I jumped," she said, and Susie's giddiness increased. "But it really wasn't that big of a deal."

"Can you teach to me to do it?"

If Chucky ever needed a partner . . .

"Uh . . . sure," she said sarcastically, throwing an arm over Susie's small shoulders and leading her to where the refreshments waited, "right after Brad Pitt comes riding in on his white horse and asks me to marry him."

"Brad who?"

The moment they walked into the Hall Buffy grabbed the nearest cup at the Gryffindor table and drunk as much water as she could handle-- which turned out to be a river load. Near death experiences really brought out the thirst in a person.

"I need to talk to you," Draco suddenly whispered harshly by her ear.

He immediately grabbed her elbow and pulled her out of the Hall with her water filled cheeks and all. When they reached their apparent empty hallway destination she managed to swallow the large amount of water she had trapped in her mouth when he yanked her away in one gulp without choking, if only she'd had the hiccups.

"Okay," she said and cleared her throat, "you are so not Brad Pitt."

"Who?"

Would it kill these wizards to pick up _Hello!_ magazine? Forget it, it would be too _muggle_ for them to even try.

"So what's with the sudden need for a hallway convergence?" she changed topic.

Draco's face regained its frown. "You really have to ask? You jumped off a bloody broom!"

Oh this was so not going away.

"You know most people would be glad that I'm alive and ignore the details."

"Most people wouldn't go jumping off brooms."

"Who said I was most people?"

Check and–

"Fine only _sane_ people don't go jumping off brooms."

–no mate.

"Are you calling I'm insane?"

"And dim."

All right that's enough. "Hey, if I wanna jump off brooms, dive off bridges or drive off cliffs I can Thelma and Louise it all I want I don't have to ask for permission."

. . . "Okay, I'm going to pretend I understood most of that and say that it has nothing to do with permission."

"By the way people keep acting it seems like I should have asked 'Wizard may I'?"

"If it ever gets through that thick head of yours you'd realize that the reason people are reacting that way is because you could have died! And in case it may have missed your notice we don't want you to die."

That was . . . Draco had never said those kinds of words before they were too raw for him to express, and Buffy was momentarily taken aback by the confession of it.

Draco lowered his eyes and took a step backwards. He had said more than he wanted to say. He revealed too much of his care for her. Vulnerability did not come easy to him and he disappointed himself when he let it happen. But didn't she realize that by jumping she could have split her head open and . . . no she couldn't have because Buffy was a do now think later person who stood on her own two feet. He just couldn't get rid of the fear that he might lose her again, especially if she puts herself in those kinds of sit— Draco froze and his eyes went wide. Buffy had launched herself into him and squeezed her arms around him without warning.

"Scars and Peacocks, Draco," she said and before his sense came back she had already untangled herself.

"What?"

"They're permanent, strange and our morbid little bonding secret. As long as there is the scar and peacocks you and I are set in stone."

"Scars and Peacocks," he smiled, and it balmed over his anger.

It was the day for pettiness and Buffy saw no reason to skip out of the indulgence, anyhow it was that person's fault for all this strain of worrisome so 'nah to yah'.

"Besides it's Pansie's fault I had to jump in the first place, she was the one who jinxed the broom to go all nutso while I was on it."

Blood shot up to his face.

"She what?!"

Draco's voice echoed over the corridors but Theodore was close enough to have flinched, if he was capable of it that is. He had heard about what happened to Buffy there wasn't anyone in the castle who didn't. As soon as he heard the news he went in search of her, to make sure she was okay but by the time he had caught sight of her she was already busy with Draco. He stood out of eyesight and listened to their conversation. What did they mean by scars and peacocks? It bothered him when he heard it. Theodore knew there was a hidden meaning behind it, it was too strange a phrase for there not to be. There was a lot of that with Buffy. She had hidden and private meanings with different people, with a lot of people who took up most of her time to the point where he hardly had any. She didn't even see it, see him until he was right there beside her. He tried to be patient but it wasn't working. They weren't working. Unless Theodore was standing right in her line of vision she didn't see him. He knew it was unintentional, she didn't mean to do it but she was doing it nonetheless and he felt short changed. He had harbored feelings for her since they were twelve. That was also the problem. His feelings were that for a twelve-year-old Buffy, but Buffy wasn't the twelve-year-old girl she used to be. His feelings were for a girl who existed in the past. A girl who didn't exist anymore. He liked this Buffy but it wasn't the same and his heart ached at the final admittance to it. He watched her face as it flew through different expressions in a short span of time and Theodore remembered, will always remember that smile on her face when he was the only one around. The smile that he will always believe was just for him. Buffy had a radiant smile on her face just now and a lump appeared in his throat, no they were definitely not going to work.

* * *

Note: Damn writer's block! I've rewritten this chapter about forty times and just as I was about done I lost the file, frustration took on a whole knew meaning :s But anyway Happy Belated New Year! :) Thank you again for the reviews and the continued support, it gives me the fire to keep sticking to this story. All writer's blocks and finicky technology be damned!!


	58. Chapter 58

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

" . . . sometimes she does. Most of the time she doesn't. It's all internal with her, seeing as she sees with her _inner eye_. Not a lot of confidence in that."

"Well not every seer can see everything."

"Yeah, some are bound to be wrong sometimes. I mean no one's perfect."

"But doesn't that contradict the whole 'all seeing' thing that she's supposed to have?"

"Uh . . . "

"Well . . . "

Buffy, Lavender and Parvati were comparing the psychic stylings of Professor Trelawney and Firenze as they made their way from the library to the common room. The Trelawneyites had been expressing their very strong faith in Trewlaney's abilities and unwavering feelings of having their favorite teacher return since Buffy had bumped into them while looking for the appropriate research material for the Divination homework they had been assigned. Trelawney and Firenze had very different styles of fortune telling, made clearly obvious if you had sat in both classes, and it was only natural to debate who was the better of the two. Buffy was only glad that the subject of conversation had not included the little broom-fiasco that had occurred earlier that afternoon. Her ears were still ringing from all the verbage about the whole madcap adventure, and of all the reprimands from her friends. It was nice to forget about the whole situation and talk about something as pointless as who is the best Divination teacher.

The girls were midway through their discussion and destination when a certain Slytherin with a determined expression caused a pause in their paths.

"Buffy, I need to talk to you."

There was something very serious about the way Theodore spoke, it was such a straightforward tone and Buffy had a sudden feeling of dread in her stomach.

"O-okay, sure," she sputtered nervously.

She moved away from Parvati and Lavender, both girls expressing that innate worried feeling girls get when they sense something's off, and stepped aside to a quieter area with her dark-haired guy.

"What's up?" she asked, feigning casualty.

"Buffy, I--"

"Ms. Summers."

The sugary voice sent her skin crawling. Buffy turned around and there Ms. Ribbit was. Her eyes gleaming and her smile too wide, which of course kids never adds up to anything good.

"Follow me please," Umbridge ordered briskly, turned on her heels and tap-tapped down the hall.

"Sorry," Buffy apologized to Theodore, not so sorry if the dreaded feeling in her gut she received earlier was any indication, "but when evil croaks you gotta . . . "

She smiled hastily and turned to follow Umbridge. The first time she had ever been somewhat eager to do so. All sorts of bad thoughts went through her head. What would Theodore want to talk to her about? Her woman's intuition was on red alert. It was bad news, she knew that much. And when a boy had bad news it only meant one thing. One very, very bad thing.

Theodore stood there until he could see them no more. Even when trying to end things he didn't stand a chance. If he wasn't so sure about his decision before he was sure about it now. Harsh? Maybe, but this instance only added to the multitude of other times he was either blown off or didn't have a start to begin with. There was no wavering now. No more to be taken. What a morose way to end the day. Theodore gave a resigning sigh and slumped back down to the dungeons; waiting, yet again, to talk to Buffy.

It might've been all in her mind, but whenever Buffy walked into Umbridge's office she could swear there was a medicinal smell floating around in the air. Might've been that whole Pepto thing the room had going on. Mind trickery and all that.

"Sit down," Umbridge ordered.

Her rebel tongue almost lashed out from habit, but Buffy bit it down and took a seat like a good little student. Umbridge's smile did not waver once the entire time since ordering Buffy to follow her to her office and when she took her chair behind her desk it seemed that her eyes had gained even more pleasure.

"Now, Ms. Summers, you've had quite an interesting afternoon haven't you," she said gleefully. "It's all around the castle of course. Children can't seem to contain their excitement about the situation. And after hearing about the event in great detail, I'm afraid that I see no other alternative. As it is my duty as High Inquisitor of Hogwarts to ensure that the appropriate measures are taken when involved with student affairs."

There was a lump in Buffy's stomach now and a crawling feeling around spine.

"What affairs?" she asked warily.

Her smile stretched wider. "Well it seems you've had a great deal of trouble flying today and due to the circumstance of your limited abilities and the risk of putting yourself in such danger I see no other option. Ms. Summers, you are hereby banned from flying any broomstick ever again."

A white-hot heat shot through Buffy's body. Her hands clenched into fists and her magic crackled angrily inside her body.

"I'm what?!"

"After what had occurred this afternoon, what did you expect, Ms. Summers?" she said, her voice filled with contentment. "It's obvious by your actions that you are not able to control a broomstick while flying."

"Wait that's--"

"And instead of waiting for assistance, as you should have, you decide to jump off your broom in order to fulfill some sort of need for attention."

"That's not--"

"Therefore you have proven that you cannot be trusted. I must remind you Ms. Summers that flying is a privilege and not a right. A privilege that you will no longer be able to experience from here on out, I assure you. And you can thank your little escapade for that."

That evil-twisted-ugly-wretched-Damn it! The one thing, the one freaking thing that had brought her some damn relief of the past few days. The one thing Umbridge knew she could take away from her and there was absolutely nothing she can do about it. The one blessed thing that melted the world away for a moment and Buffy would not be able to do again because of the stupid woman behind the desk who's entire existence was to cause others misery and pain because her blackened heart knew to do nothing else.

"You can't do this!"

"Well, according to Educational Decree number twenty-five, yes," she giggled, "I can."

Buffy's eyes glinted angrily, staring hard and cold into Umbridge's black ones. Furiously rising from her chair, she bolted out of the office. There was no way, no way! She was getting away with this.

The door slammed angrily behind Buffy's retreat, and Umbridge smiled then gurgled out the most horrendous giggle that sent the kittens in her decorative plates hiding behind whatever they could.

No one, not one person stood in Buffy's way as she stomped and muttered angrily through the common room. No one dared to. Not with her eyes looking the way they did. She slammed the door of the dormitory open and slammed it again closed. Every fiber in her body enraged to the point of madness.

"Hello there!"

Looking out the window, Buffy saw Fred hovering out there on a borrowed broomstick.

"You're going to get caught," she said.

"That's why George is on look out," he replied, and moved his body aside to show that George was in fact sitting on the other end of the broom keeping his eyes peeled. "Mind if we come in?"

She shrugged stiffly, "unless you're planning on taking the stairs . . . "

The Twins flew into the room and dismounted, letting the broom fall to the floor and sitting themselves on Buffy's bed.

"We've been hearing stories about you," said George.

"Never knew you're that good a flyer."

The anger doubled at that last little comment.

"You mean _was_ that good a flyer," she said tensely.

"What do you mean was?"

"I mean that old Frogenstein has just banned me from flying. Forever!"

The Twins expressive eyes went wide in surprise.

"Forever?"

"Why would she do that?"

"Really need to ask? She's been on my case since the year started. Always looking for ways to make my life hell."

"But to ban you from flying."

"She can't just do that can she?"

"You didn't hurt anyone."

"Or beat up Malfoy."

"Unless you came to your senses and did."

Buffy couldn't help the tiny smile. "No, I didn't."

"Then why'd she do it?"

"You mean besides the fact that she can," she pointed out. "She's got that stupid High Inquisitor authority on her side, and apparently since I decided to jump off the psycho-broom instead of waiting to be rescued from it I had proven that I was not trustworthy enough to fly one anymore."

"So you're being punished for not letting yourself die?"

"No, I'm being punished for all the times I talked back and refused to submit to her insanity. This is just payback for every thing I've done or refused to do since she laid her beady little eyes on me."

Sooner or later Umbridge was going to find a way to take her revenge on Buffy. All she had to do was wait for the right opportunity to come along. And as soon as it did she pounced on it with fervor.

"So what's the plan?" asked Fred.

"Plan?"

"Well you're not just going to let her get away with it are you?"

"Yeah, that's not the Buffy Summers we fell in love with."

There was that helpless smile on her face again.

"The Buffy Summers we fell in love with will get her own revenge."

"A sneaky one at that."

"A clever one."

No one knew that unfairness never goes unjustified like Fred and George.

"Oh, there'll be comeuppance," she assured them. "She'll get what's coming to her. I'll even burn down the whole school if I have to."

Pride exuded from Fred and George.

"That's the spirit!"

* * *

The Death Eaters were recruiting and canon fodder was at the top of their list. When they heard Spike was in town they sniffed him out. His ruthless reputation may have preceded him, but to the Death Eaters and especially to Lord Voldemort he was still just a _vampire_. They could use someone like him to keep their underbelly hands invisible until they used him all up and then toss out for the sun to swallow. Yes, he could be quite beneficial indeed.

Spike was tossing back a few sudsy barleys in a grizzly little pub when the invitation came by way of two cloaked mystery men. A fight ensued, as most times it does when Spike refuses and the refused won't take no for answer. Buffy Summers! One of them called out suddenly and the punch he was supposed to receive never came as Spike stopped the minute he heard the name. The Death Eaters knew what cards to play, they had done their research and now Spike was all ears. The Dark Lord could get rid of her, one said. She won't be a bother anymore, added the other. For years Spike tried to get that damn blonde slayer off his back and here the opportunity had slithered its way to him, oh he had no intention to join the warped little crusade they had going but he was curious about the bloke that made all wizards shudder in their knickers and if he could take care of his pesky problem that was just icing on the cake. With a brighter outlook on these wizarding folk, Spike lifted the fallen chaps from the floor and dusted them off.

"All right boys, lead the way."

Lead the way not pop through it! Spike stumbled, grumbled and shook his head to regain his marbles. They had walked out of the pub and five steps into a dark alley when the wizards suddenly apparated him through space and time. Bloody wizards. A little warning wouldda been nice. With his stomach no longer urging to heave and the world now upright again, Spike's thoughts and vision were clear again. And he found himself standing outside a very large foreboding mansion. Luckily this time his guides actually lead him inside by foot.

The halls were empty and quiet. No sign of a soul in sight. But the smell of fear was hanging heavily in the air. Spike studied his surroundings. The escape routes and easy getaways, which there seemed too few of if any. The echo of the footsteps before him stopped and he refocused his attention back to his guides and found that they had arrived at two heavily carved doors.

"The Dark Lord is waiting," the fair-haired one with a shiny new black eye said and then without another word the pair of wizards left.

"Guess I'll be letting myself in then," said Spike and pried open one of the mysterious doors.

The room was dark and vast. The only light coming from the sparsely lit candles that adorned the walls.

"William the Bloody," Voldemort hissed in the near darkness.

The deeper Spike stepped in the clearer the picture became, and upon first sight of the big bad the vampire was not all that impressed. Voldemort looked frail, weak and ready to keel over; however, Spike knew the stories and felt the loads of power that rolled off the snake-looking thing that sat in its regal chair. It seemed that the legend was always bigger than the man.

"Nice place you got here," he said looking around the room that only they two occupied. "No windows. No natural light. All sorts of vamp friendly things."

Voldemort made a low guttural sound. How dare he compare the great Lord Voldemort to such a low creature as a _vampire_, but no, now was not the time. His progress in the Department of Mysteries was not going as planned, he needed another tactic, another way to secure his plans. He needed this creature to help him reconnect to an old . . ._friend_.

"Your reputation is quite . . . impressive. Two slayers. Countless of bodies. A remarkable hand with railroad spikes."

The proud smirk appeared from the sound of those words. "Life's a party. Gotta enjoy all the good parts while you can eh?"

"However," he said impatiently, "in light of all this it appears that there is still one problem that has plagued your undead existence. A problem I share."

And Spike's chest deflated once again.

"So I've been told. Blonde, annoying, about yea high?"

"Yes," he sneered at the arrogance. "I have a proposition for you."

"'S why I'm here."

"What would you say if I told you that I could fix our mutual problem? Permanently."

Spike paused, stared in assessment and loudly scoffed at the casualness of the idea. Lord Voldy here had no idea of what he was getting into did he?

"I would say good luck. Every demon hell has spit forth has been unable to put her in the ground . . . at least permanently." The memories of every time he tried to kill her and failed fired his veins. "She's like a bloody Jack-in-the-box, pops up every time you try stuffing her in the dirt."

"Demons are simple-minded creatures. They don't have the intellectual capacity to carry out any sort of plan. They don't know what they're dealing with."

Spike raised a curious eyebrow. "And you do?"

Voldemort eerily grinned from ear to ear. "You might say, I know better than anyone."

* * *

There was too much anger to be cooped up even if no D.A. meeting was held and all her doormmates were in their beds fast asleep with the chance that they could wake up to find her gone. Well right now she could give a flying monkey's ass about that. All Buffy cared about was finding a little demon therapy. And figuring out on how she could get her hands on a rocket launcher.

"There's been a lot of rumbling about you."

If she didn't have enough problems. Buffy turned around and there was Spike leather, smoke and all.

"And here I thought you were gone forever."

The cigarette hung loosely from his lips as he walked slowly in her direction; the leaves quiet beneath his boots.

"You're lucky I'm still hanging around these parts, luv."

He was serious, no sign of mirth that usually twinkled his eyes.

"Unlikely."

He pulled something out of his coat pocket and tossed it into her hands. Buffy spread open the newspaper and her breath caught in her throat.

"Look familiar?"

"Where did you get this?" she pushed through her clenched teeth.

"Your Dark Lord gave--"

"DON'T CALL HIM THAT!"

The trees shuddered at her voice. The newspaper crinkled as her hands fisted over the object. Buffy hoped to never see this again. It represented nothing but bad memories, the physical form of everything that had been done to her. It should've been left for corrosion to erase.

"You're in some rough water here, Slayer," he said in a low, serious voice.

Buffy snapped out of her bitter evoked trance and blanked her face.

"And none of it is easier with you around. Go home, Spike. I mean it this time."

After all that trouble he didn't go through. "Oi, is that the thanks I get for--"

"For what? For bringing me this! For reminding me about what I so don't want to remember. Tell me what I'm supposed to be thankful for? I already know what's going on. I don't need you playing the messenger. So go the hell home and take everything you think you know with you."

She stood her ground and waited for Spike to leave. He stared at her angry face for a moment assessing her reactions and then dropped his cigarette to the ground stubbing it out with the toe of his boot before he spoke.

"This isn't like old Sunnyhell, ducks. You ain't got the scoobies watching your back. When that old Voldy comes sniffing no one's gonna be looking through the dust for you."

His ignorance never ceased to amaze her. Spike never looked deeper than what was necessary and it always gave him the wrong conclusions.

"You're an idiot, Spike. Always have been. Always will be. Sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, talking about things you don't understand." She took two steps forwarded and dropped her little revelation onto Mr. Know-It-All. "You're right, this isn't Sunnydale but this isn't my fight and Voldemort is not my big bad to deal with. I don't know what they told you back in the clubhouse but apparently it wasn't the whole gist of it. I know what Voldemort's after, I know what he wants and I know it's not what you think it is. Voldemort may have a hit list but I can assure you Buffy Summers is not on it."

"Is that so?" Spike cocked an eyebrow. "Sure seemed that way after our little chat."

"Than your little chat was a halfway conversation."

He smirked bemused. "Really? So old Voldyballs isn't waiting to get his snaky hands on you then?"

That wasn't what she meant, but she wasn't going to correct him. Spike shouldn't no more than he already did.

"_Voldyballs_ wants to get his hands on a lot of people, no special asterisk is by anybody's name," she sighed in annoyance.

"Unless that name happens to be Harry Potter."

It wasn't a mystery, if you knew the wizarding world you knew that Voldemort and Harry Potter were repulsively intertwined, but it still irked her that he said it.

"Good shot Captain Obvious. What's next? The sky's blue?"

She'd had enough jibber and wanted no more jabber, rolling her eyes at him she began to walk away.

"He told me to lure you out of Hogwarts. Said to get you out by any means necessary."

Buffy stopped and turned back. His eyes were dead set on her and she waited silently for him to continue.

"You sure there isn't a little star by your name, Slayer?"

* * *

"What'd she do?"

Voldemort frowned at one of the few times he had been rendered confused.

"Kill your plans for world domination? Destroy your palace? Burn down your trains? Gotta be a reason why you're salivating after the girl."

"My reasons do not concern you," he clipped.

"They do if you want my help. And you do need my help don't you? That's why you sent your lackies back there. All your other methods have gone tried and untrue or else I wouldn't be here."

Voldemort was used to obedience, submission, he should have done his research a little more carefully because when it came to Spike obedience and submission were words the blonde vampire did not understand. He stared coldly at Spike's cheeky grin. Regretting every part of his decision to have had him brought here and requesting his service. Out of all the vampires in the world Voldemort had to go and pick the one with the slightest sign of intelligence.

"How much do you know about Buffy Summers, William?"

Spike felt a tick in his spine at being called William. William the Bloody, sure no problem, but just William. There was that tick again.

"It's Spike," he corrected tersely, "and we covered this. Annoying. Blonde. Jack-in-the-box. Oh! And a witch apparently. That one came as a bit of shock. Surprised I didn't sense it in her before. Must've been all that Hellmouth magic running around."

Patience was quickly becoming a virtue Lord Voldemort was growing intimate with.

"She was a Hogwarts student before you had crossed paths. A young girl with quite a lot of potential. Potential she wasn't even aware she had. It's rare to come upon something so valuable. Unique. Infinite."

Around for over a hundred years, seeing all the low parts of life that this world had to offer, there were very few things that creeped Spike out. The wild look of yearning in Voldemort's eyes and the near foaming at the mouth as he spoke was one of those things.

"Oookaay," Spike stretched the word out uneasily, "so the girl's special. Still doesn't explain why--"

Something small and silver floated through the air toward him. He plucked it from nothingness and stared into the object that was small enough for one hand to hold. It was familiar, not particularly this one, he had never seen this one but it looked like the others. The same flow of patterns, the same material. It looked like . . . the others . . . If Spike's heart was still in working order it would've stopped beating. He furrowed his brow as he looked back to Volemort.

"She is of need to me," he slithered.

* * *

"Why are we still here then?" Buffy asked. "Pretty sure you could've pulled it off."

"Of course I could've."

"Then why haven't you?" Something wasn't right. Spike wasn't acting like himself. She knew it was him, there was no Polyjuice involved, but he was holding himself back this time. He was keeping something from her. "You're not telling me everything, Spike. Why would Voldemort give you this?" she asked, and raised the hand that still held the object he had tossed to her. "Why did he choose you to take me out of Hogwarts? How did you get wrapped into this?"

He pulled out another cigarette and lit it. Exhaling a long stream of smoke before he said anything.

"He's got big plans for this world of yours. Won't be long before it bleeds out to the rest of the planet. And the way he made it seem, looks like you're part of those plans."

"How?"

"Didn't say," he shrugged. "He needed a familiar face to you. Wizard did his homework and my name came across the top line. That's how I got wrapped in this. That's how I got picked for the mission."

"Maybe so but still doesn't explain why you haven't followed through on it? Why I'm not facing Voldemort right now?"

Why did she have to ask so many bleedin' questions? He had a hard enough time not asking himself those questions and knowingly avoiding the answers. Along with avoiding so many other things he refused to face about this whole maddening situation.

"I'm not all for world domination, ducks. Told you that once remember?"

"Yeah, and as I recall that was also the last time I was supposed to see you, and yet here you are. Doesn't give me a lot of faith in believing you."

"Not lying about this one. I like this world. Gotta a lot of neat things here. A lot of--"

"Oh god, not a-- I've heard all this already," she interrupted knowing very well where this was headed. "Last year. I was there remember. Dog racing. Manchester United. And if you mention one word about happy meals with legs I will rip off your arm and beat you with it."

That's right he did say this last year. Huh, guess if you live long enough you tend to repeat yourself a few times.

"We'll there's your answer right there. I like my world the way it is."

She became silent. He was helping her again. It made her a little queasy thinking that. She didn't trust him. She still expected a trick even when he swore he was being honest. But like before what other choice did she have but to believe him just a little.

"He'll come after you when he finds out you betrayed him," she said seriously, no pretense in her voice.

"I'll be long gone by then."

"Doesn't matter. He'll try to find you."

He smirked. "Expecting he will."

He didn't seem scared by it, which he probably wasn't. Say what she wanted to about Spike but Buffy couldn't deny the fact that he was a fighter.

"Don't ever come around here again, Spike."

He tossed the remainder of his cigarette to the ground and stuffed his hands into the pocket of his coat. He gave her a long look, and then he smirked. It was getting boring around here anyway. Not many meals to chew on in the forest, unless you liked the taste of centaur. Which was not quite the delicacy some might think.

"See you around, pet."

Buffy stood stone silent; watching as Spike melted into the darkness and disappeared, hopefully for good. Once her prickly senses were aware that one less demonic being was in the trees, she looked down at her hands and at the object she was given. Her breath shook as she looked at the iron face staring back at her with its carved out eyes. A chill went down her spine at the memories of this, of why she had worn it.

It was unstoppable, an action out of her conscious control. Her hand smoothed over the iron mask; the delicate filigree carvings, the small pouty lips, the faint bump of a nose. It was the mask of a child. Innocent and eerie not scary like the others. Slowly she lifted the mask from its newspaper casing and peered through the eye gaps as she lifted it to her face. Her body reacting in goose bumps the closer it got. And then she felt it. The cold hard steel against her soft skin. And the flashes came . . . the man screaming in pain . . . the torches of fire lighting up the home . . . the mother holding her daughter as they screamed for them to stop . . . the chill of the dark room . . . the look of devotion as they gazed at her . . . their heads lowered until she called them to attention . . . their hushed voices when they addressed her 'Yes, my Lord'— Buffy threw the mask off her face and vigorously patted her skin to make sure it was her, she was here, she wasn't him anymore. She's wasn't him! She's not him! Covering her face with both hands she prayed for the pictures to stop. For him to leave her alone! She pictured her own life. Her friends. Her family. Her loved ones. And slowly her heart rate began to return to normal and her nerves began to calm. Her ragged breathing eased the more she convinced herself that she was she and no one else. She was Buffy, only Buffy. With the affirmations repeating boldly in her mind she exhaled loudly and ran her hands through her hair, releasing the remaining fear and anxiety from the onslaught of her memories. This storm was passing.

Buffy shook her head and let out one final puff of breath. It was time to head back now. She was not mentally stable enough to deal with any demons tonight. She took one step and then her eyes caught sight of the fallen iron mask that glinted in the moonlight. She had almost forgotten the trigger of her loaded gun. Gradually she gathered it from the ground and squeezed the steel in between her hands. Her eyes burned with anger from the very sight of it. She should destroy it from existence. Make it nothing but scrap metal. Let it be lost to history to never be heard from again. Instead, Buffy wrapped the mask within the newspaper again and placed it beneath her coat. Crossing her arms tightly against her chest as she made her way back to the castle. She didn't know why, that was her only excuse, she didn't know why she decided to keep the thing that was a reminder of when her innocence was stolen from her; of a result for being who she was, of what had been done to her, of being one with a chosen destiny. Buffy wasn't lying earlier. What she had told Spike was the truth. Lord Voldemort wasn't after Buffy Summers; he was after what lived inside of her.

* * *

Note: I'm really trying to update faster, really and truly, but my imagination keeps hitting the snooze button after each sentence I type. But anyway, I'm still pushing forward because I can't give up on this story, seeing as I already have ideas for books 6 and 7 that I can't wait to get to. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! To everyone for the reviews and the reads. You're amazingly awesome :)


	59. Chapter 59

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

'Did you hear? Did you hear? Umbridge has banned Buffy from flying!' There it was, and it was everywhere, another piece of juice to oil up the gossip mill.

"Forever?"

"For-freaking-ever!"

"That seems a bit overly doesn't it?"

"Overly?"

"Shut up."

Ginny seemed to be sponging up all the slang Buffy had a tendency to dish out. Kudos to that.

"It's extremely _overly_, and right up her alley."

"Isn't there something Dumbledore can do?" asked Neville.

"According to Educational Decree number twenty . . . number twenty . . . number twenty something or other, no there isn't. His hands are tied by the Ministry which means my feet are firmly planted on solid ground for the time being."

"You know," Ginny began in a pensive tone, "putting things into perspective now, Umbridge's ban kind of makes our reactions about your flying a bit--"

"Overly?" said Neville.

Ginny pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes and shoved Neville just enough for him to topple slightly to the side, but not enough for him to _overly_ fall over.

"It's so unfair," Susie said. "I can't believe she'd do that to you. Someone jinxed your broom to go out of control. It wasn't even your fault."

"It's not fair but that's the whole point of this," Buffy replied, continuing to braid Susie's hair. "She's just trying to prove that no matter how many times I smart mouth in the end she's still the one with the power in this school."

"It's a bit scary isn't it," said Ginny. "To think that kind of person has that much control."

"I don't think scary is the word," Neville said.

No, scary definitely falls short because Buffy knew Umbridge wasn't scary, she was dangerous. With each passing day she pushed her limits inch by inch until one day those limits will break and there will be nothing standing in her way.

"Hagrid seems to be limping again," said Ginny, her eyes narrowed in hope of clearing up the half-giant's form that was coming out of the forest.

Buffy paused in the middle of crossing Susie's strands and looked over to Hagrid. She hadn't spoken to him yet concerning Firenze's warning, not with Umbridge present in every one of his lessons which did not bode a good sign for his teaching position. Quickly finishing up her work on Susie's raven hair, Buffy rose from the grass and made her excuses.

"Listen guys, I've gotta talk to Hagrid. I'll catch up with you later okay," she said and hastily walked away.

Ginny was right, Hagrid was limping. No mystery there as to why. She reached him just as he was entering his hut and as they both walked inside Buffy relayed all the information Firenze had requested of her.

Hagrid gazed at her for a moment through his puffy, blackened eyes, apparently taken aback. Then he seemed to pull himself together.

"Nice bloke, Firenze," he said gruffly, "but he don' know what he's talkin' abou' on this. Everythin's comin' along fine."

"Oh yea real fine," she sarcastically rolled out, eyeing his broken features. "You have to be more careful, Hagrid. Umbridge has already sacked Trelawney, and she's likely on a roll. Maybe you should rethink--"

"There's things more importan' than keepin' a job," said Hagrid, though his hands shook slightly as he said this.

Buffy was handling this wrong. He was becoming defense which meant he wasn't going to listen. She eased back her confrontation and calmed her voice.

"I know, that's why you need to be more careful. I know what he means to you and if you get fired, how will you be able to take care of him? He's not on easy secret to hide, Hagrid. You need to stay at Hogwarts for the both of you. And . . . I know that no matter what I say won't change your mind about keeping him here, but please, please be careful."

He stood quietly. A pensive look in his unfocused eyes, but then he blinked and he had the same look Buffy gets when she pretends the world is rosy despite the demons knocking at her door.

"Don' worry abou' us. Everything'll be fine. Yeh'll see."

A bad feeling settled low in her stomach at the sound of his words. This was not going to end well at all.

For the rest of the day Buffy kept herself indoors. She couldn't look over to the forest or Hagrid's hut without fighting the urge to physically remove him and Grawp from Hogwarts to anywhere that was much safer. She wasn't positive, but a slayer's strength must be powerful enough to toss a giant and a half-giant over her shoulder and run right?

"What exactly does it mean when someone says 'all that and a bag of chips'?"

Buffy looked up from her reading, surprised at the question.

"Uh, well . . . kind of all depends really, by way of self-explanatory it means, 'I'm way too cocky for my own good' but if you wanna go the knowledgeable route for all kinds of varied purposes then it usually means 'the best and then some'. Why do you ask?"

"It was on a show Dudley was watching once," answered Harry as he sat next to her, adjusting his back against the common room wall. "Always wondered what it meant."

"Standard L.A. slang . . . well mostly. Do you remember what show he was watching?"

"Not really, why?"

"Curious. It's not usual UK dialect so I suspect American TV."

"I think it was and since you're the only one I know who's been to the States I figured you'd be able to make some sort of sense out it."

"It's not completely senseless once you get the hang of it. Plus there are some real good ones like 'da bomb' and 'peace out'. Oh, and the very neat 'peachy keen'."

That didn't help confirming the non-senseless part.

"No, they're still strange," he said, and settled on a thought for a moment. "What does 'da bomb' mean?"

It was surreal; never in her wildest dreams did Buffy ever imagine the words 'da bomb' coming out of Harry Potter's mouth.

"In lamest terms, it means extremely cool."

"Oh."

A black robed blur suddenly zoomed past them. With an urgent trio on its heels.

Dennis Creevey, the boy who knew no fear, had so bravely volunteered to test Fred and George's maniacal sweets, something the Twins were soon to regret as Dennis was now running around like a roadrunner on speed. With Fred, George and Lee Jordan chasing after trying to catch him with absolutely no luck.

"What did you give him?" Buffy asked as Fred came across.

"Er . . . well . . . " he tried to say in-between heaving for breath and glancing from Buffy to a still running Dennis, "see . . . we don't exactly know."

"You don't know?" asked Harry.

"We . . . he's heading for the stairs!" he shouted to George and Lee then brought his attention back to those questioning him, "the thing is . . . he kind of ate a combination of two things . . . and well . . . "

"You don't exactly know _what_ two things," concluded Buffy.

"That's why you're the smart one," Fred winked, "now if you'll excuse me I've got a rambunctious second year to catch. No Lee! He's become a biter remember!"

And sure enough . . .

"Oooouch!"

And Dennis Creevey laughed as he sped off again. _Meep, Meep_.

Buffy smiled at the Three Stooges re-enactment. Her eyes following little Dennis as he escaped everyone trying to catch him, and as he dashed past the sofa Buffy noticed that two pairs of eyes were not on the second year boy but on her and Harry. The pair shifted their glances nervously while they unconvincingly tried to behave as normally as they could. Hmm, interesting.

"Is there something you want tell me?" she asked Harry.

"What?"

She jutted her chin in Ron and Hermione's direction.

"Your friends over there are looking like they have ants in their pants which gives me the feeling that you didn't just sit here for some tutoring on U.S. slang."

Harry looked over and saw Ron and Hermione not so sneakily glancing in their direction with the rate of hummingbird wings. Great.

"They're not very discreet are they?"

"Wouldn't trust them with nuclear secrets if that's what you mean."

Harry was easy. He seemed to be the only who knew what she was talking about 90-well 86% of the time. Be it Muggle, Wizarding, British and some American, her words were all treated equally. He questioned very little, understood the majority and made the flow of conversation a whole lot smoother. A rare gem in this place. Though Ginny seemed to be getting the hang of it apparently.

"So, care to share?"

He had hoped to ease into it a little more fluidly, but seeing as his friends had caused curiousness . . .

"Buffy . . . do you . . . have you heard about the D.A.?"

Her heart skipped a beat. Was this a trap? It felt like a trap which was a little sad wasn't it. Here Harry was asking what seemed to be a perfectly innocent question and Buffy had automatically become so suspicious about it. But once, or five, six, seven times bitten makes one many a times shy. So Buffy had to play it cool and reveal as little as possible while the special little D.A. galleon seemed to be appear heavier as it rested in her trunk upstairs.

"Heard of it," she said.

"How much of it?"

"Aside from the D and the A, not much. I figured it was some sort of secret underground Hogwarts disco or something."

"No," he said, shaking his head and smiling as pictures of the D.A. members dancing about popped into his brain, "definitely not a disco."

"Pity, could've enjoyed some boogieing down in my spare time."

She didn't know, all right so that meant he had to start at the beginning. Better way than any. He cleared his throat and turned a serious face to her ready for the leap.

"The D.A.'s . . . well it's . . . do you remember that meeting a group of us had at the Hog Head's at the beginning of the year?"

Of course. "Vaguely."

"Well . . . um . . . by any chance . . . did you happen to hear what we were talking about?"

The defensive shield came up when paranoia set in. Was he . . . did he still . . . was he actually . . .

"What?" she asked tersely.

"From where you were sitting, I-I was wondering if you happened to hear anything that we were talking about?"

He looked nervous, and with Buffy's mind set it was a guilty nervous. Why was he so nervous? Was it because he was about to accuse her again? Blame her for apparently telling Umbridge about their little D.A. thingy. Is that why he had sat down next to her and so casually brought up a conversation? 'All that and a bag of chips' her fanny.

Was he asking it wrong? She seemed upset. Her jaw had tightened and her eyes were smaller than they had been just minutes ago. Strange. Silently Harry repeated the question in his head, but no, he couldn't find a problem in the wording. Maybe he was--

"I can't believe this," she mumbled. "You still believe I told Umbridge don't you?"

It was like a hot poker to the back and Harry's eyes went wide.

"What? No!"

"Yes you do!"

"No. I don't!"

"Than what's up with all these questions? What's with the sudden third degree?"

"Because I was going to ask you to join the D.A. you idiot!"

. . . Oh.

_Meep, Meep_. Dennis Creevey zoomed by with the majority of the house now chasing after him. Funny that with so many people the tiny little thing was still so elusive. But maybe being so small was the key to his success.

Distracted for the moment, Buffy watched as Dennis dove through Angela's legs, slipping through her grasp and then jumped over a chair that started another round of Catch the Creevey. Buffy smiled a little at the funniness but it disappeared when she turned back to Harry. The lump of guilt wouldn't go down her throat with him looking that way. Turns out his questions had been innocent after all.

Harry's eyes were down and his jaw clenched tight. He felt like an idiot. Here he was trying to be nice and she was accusing him of him accusing her of something that hadn't crossed his mind and hadn't believed in some time. Well if she was going to be this way than maybe he didn't—

"I'm sorry."

His jaw flinched.

"I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions like that."

He still didn't look at her or seemed any less angry, and Buffy started to get a little mad. Okay so she jumped the gun it's not like it was unjustified.

"But you can't really blame me you know. I mean everyone was all with pointing their fingers in my direction for telling Umbridge about your little meeting, which I didn't by the way, and I've yet to hear an apology for being called a Benedict Arnold or even a 'we were wrong.' Then you come over and start asking me if I've heard about the D.A. and start snooping to know if I'd heard anything during that super secret meeting, which by the way wasn't so super secret when you invited the whole damn school. I mean, come on, did you honestly think it wasn't going to get back to Umbridge when it was a come all? Of course not, and then who got stuck with the blame? The girl who just happened to be there because she thought 'oh look, a quiet place to be alone with my thoughts', and then the whole debacle with the decree that happened the next day and I became the goose in the blame game. And now here you start with the random questioning and you expect me to not be suspicious? Really?"

Buffy stopped and waited but still nothing. All that and he was still nothing! Her lips tightened. Seriously? She apologized and explained and he was still freaking quiet. What did he want her to do? Beg! Ha, good luck with that. Idiot. Moron. Stubborn hot headed git.

"You're right," he said finally with his downcast eyes, "we never apologized for believing you had told her and we never had proof you did or didn't, so after a while everyone sort of forgot about it. But now I know that you didn't, because you wouldn't, if that makes sense. So, I'm sorry . . . we should . . . I should have said something sooner. "

This time it was Buffy's turn to have her jaw set and to stay quiet.

Harry looked at her and smiled at the fact that she was purposely not looking at him. He had been subject to her spitefulness before and he never dared to tell her that it amused him more than anything.

"I thought we weren't going to fight anymore," he reminded her teasingly, but nope, nothing. He smiled, guess he deserved that but, "all right, if you're going to be that way I'll just have to keep saying I'm sorry until you say something then."

And nothing.

"Okay, but remember you brought this on yourself." He took a deep breath and . . . "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sor--"

The hand clamped over his mouth in a soft 'smack!' and when he looked over at Buffy he could swear there was mirth in her eyes despite the scowl on her lips which seemed to be losing its firmness.

"I didn't realize how annoying that could be," she said and smiled softly as she lowered her hand, "and if you're bent on torturing me than I guess I have no other choice for the sake of my sanity."

"So, you forgive me, I forgive you?" he asked.

"On the grounds of annoyance, we're squared."

"Good. Knew annoying you would work."

"How very Fred and George of you."

Speaking of . . .

"GOTCHA!"

Buffy and Harry turned to the commotion and there was George holding Dennis over his head in triumph causing the whole room to erupt in claps and cheers in his honor. The chase had finally come to an end.

Buffy shook her head at the craziness of the fiasco with the hoop and hollering to level that of a Quidditch match. She turned back to face Harry again, her eyes roving over his profile as his gaze was still fixated on the victory show. A warm feeling settled low in her spine. He had asked her to join the D.A. or was going to before her rude assumptions. He trusted her again and he asked, she hoped, because the others had finally accepted her as just Buffy and not as an ex-Slytherin.

"So, the D.A.?" she asked.

Harry turned to her and smiled. Things were looking up.

* * *

"You don't want to see me anymore?"

Theodore stood silent, his eyes firm on a surprised and confused Buffy.

"When did this happen? Where was I?"

It was hard to not take it back with her big eyes looking at him that way, but he had thought it over many times and on his list there were more cons than pros.

"Buffy . . . before we were going out you were . . . different. Available. Now it seems you're distracted all the time by all these people who seem to be vying for your attention."

"V-Vying? Who's vying? There's been no vying," she said puzzled.

"There's been vying," he assured her, "and I'm not saying it's your fault because I know it's not, but lately people have sort of been gravitating towards you and that leaves very little room for someone who shouldn't have to compete for your attention."

"I'm sorry, I didn't . . . "

"I know."

"But I can change. In fact, from here on, you are gonna see a drastic distraction reduction," she tried to joke but his lips didn't even twitch. "'Drastic distraction reduction.' Try saying that ten times fast."

He glanced down from her surprised and hurt eyes for a moment and then swallowed what he couldn't say to gain the courage to look at her and say what he needed to.

"I'm really sorry, but . . . I don't want to be involved with someone who doesn't have the time to be involved with me."

Buffy felt her stomach churn, helplessly watching as Theodore walked away with nary a glance backward. She was surprised and shocked and all of it felt unreal even as she prattled on into Ginny's sympathetic ear in the fourth-year dormitory some time later.

"And that was it?"

"That was it."

"And then he left?"

"Then he left."

Yesterday an overjoyed Buffy had been invited to the D.A. and today a shocked Buffy had been dumped by her now ex-boyfriend. Talk about your crazy turn of events.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. Are you okay?"

"I'm still waiting for the shock to wear off but I'm pretty sure I'll be okay."

With Buffy it wasn't as easy as that and Ginny was naturally suspicious.

"'Okay' okay? Or 'I'm dying on the inside despite my cheery demeanor' okay?"

Buffy smiled in all honesty. "'Okay', okay."

"Good," she nodded and her face slipped into concern again, "is there anything I can do?"

"No it--" Then the greatest idea jumped into her brain. "Do you think the kitchens are pretty well stocked?"

"I think so why?"

Buffy slipped off the bed and headed for the door.

"If they don't have any than we'll go and make our very own."

"Make our very own what?" Ginny asked, trailing after.

"The only cure for any kind of distress."

And it was the best cure in the entire world. The girls left the kitchens with their arms full and freezing but their taste buds firmly in the pleasure zone.

"We left such a mess," Ginny giggled.

"Yeah, but it was worth it," said Buffy licking her spoon clean.

"If the house-elves weren't so eager to please I think they would've murdered us."

"And I would've died a happy girl too."

Ginny sighed pleasantly. "Cookie-dough-fudge-mint-chip ice cream. Never knew what I was missing."

"Shame it's not the original, seeing as it's not as creamy, but it comes a very close second and it sure does hit the spot."

"Definitely does, and to think if you hadn't gone to America you would've never discovered this."

"One of the many reaped rewards of my Muggle experiences."

It was not an easy start. Buffy tried to remember the ingredients as best she could, going by taste memory alone and it took plenty of trials and errors before she had finally tasted the cold smoothness of the sweet delight she had missed. Ginny had fallen in love at first taste and writing down the right ingredients with the right measurements they set to fill a large carton of their homemade creation keeping it cold with the handy-dandiness of magic until the last spoonful.

They giggled and ate as they made their way back to the common room and Ginny automatically frowned at the sight of the impossibly white blonde head of hair coming their way.

"Here comes Malfoy," she grimaced.

"Gee, tell me how you really feel," Buffy joked and Ginny ripped the full spoon of ice cream from her hand.

"I'll see you back in your room," she cheekily grinned and ran off.

Empty-handed Buffy stuck her tongue out at her, not like Ginny would see it but Buffy did manage to lick up some left over ice cream from the corner of her mouth. Bonus.

"Hello," Draco grinned. A delightedly joyful grin.

Buffy knowingly frowned at his beaming. "You heard."

The smile grew. "Heard what?"

"The last time I saw you smiling this wide was when the house-elves took the blame and suffered your mother's wrath after _you_ broke your great-great-grandmother's vase."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't. Fess up, who told you?"

He shrugged. "I heard."

"You heard?"

"News travels fast around here. You know that."

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and gave his smiling face the death glare.

"You're way too happy about this. The least you can do is feel a little sorry about my misfortunate."

"But I'm not."

"Obviously."

Theodore had walked into the Slytherin common room with more sulk than usual after his talk with Buffy. Someone, he didn't notice who, had shouted out 'Hey Nott! How's your blood traitor girlfriend?' To which he replied, 'I don't have a girlfriend.' But that person didn't stop there, 'What is she your special friend then?' the voice laughed and Theodore sadly replied 'She's not my anything.' No one said anything else and he continued walking to his dormitory in peace. The news spread after that and Draco had caught wind of it in the courtyard. He hadn't stopped smiling since.

"You know you don't seem all that sad about it yourself," he pointed out.

"That's because I'm in the process of girl mourning."

"Girl mour . . . what?"

"Girl mourning. Major venting, eating copious amounts of ice cream, vilifying and living in happy denial until the crying fits come."

Draco rolled his eyes. Girls.

"Sounds pointless to me."

"Color me surprised."

There was something colorful in her hair that Draco hadn't noticed before but had now grabbed his attention. Buffy, albeit confused, stood still as he reached into her strands and pulled back to display his discovery.

"More like color you green," he said with a glob of green and bits of brown on his fingers. "What were you and Weasley doing in the kitchens?"

"Making ice cream," she said finger combing her hair for any remnant traces of the cold confection.

"_Making_ ice cream?"

"You sound surprised."

"You don't cook."

"Making ice cream isn't cooking its blending, besides Ginny knows how to cook."

He looked at his fingers. "What kind of ice cream?"

"Cookie-dough-fudge-mint-chip. Very tasty but not found around these parts."

"Looks disgusting to me," he said wiping his hand on his robes.

"That's because you judge on appearance."

"Naturally."

Buffy rolled her eyes and lowered her hands to her hips.

"So did you just come looking for me to mock, gloat and annoy?"

He was quick to say 'yes' but aside from showing his obvious joy over her breakup there was another reason why he had sought her out. Something far more serious and much more dangerous.

"Actually, I came to tell you to stay out of the seventh floor corridor tonight," he warned her soberly.

Her eyebrows furrowed instantly. "Why?"

Draco didn't want to reveal anymore, he wasn't even supposed to tell her what he was telling her now but she needed to be warned.

"Promise me you'll stay in the common room tonight," he requested urgently.

"Draco what--"

"Please."

When Draco pleaded, although it may be rare when he did, it did not sit well with Buffy. There was usually something grave behind those requests but at most times it was done for both of their benefit which is why, like she had done times before, she gave him the benefit of the doubt.

"Okay. I'll stay in."

Draco breathed a sigh of relief. He could not afford her being caught on one of her nightly roams around the castle not tonight.

"Good," he said and then began to step away backwards.

"Where are you going?"

"I've got somewhere I have to be, but remember you promised."

His back was already turned before she could ask anymore questions. There was something very strange going on. What could--oh! Ice cream! She suddenly remembered and ran off to her dormitory. Draco's crypticness on the back burner for now as she beelined for the cold creamery she had waiting.

"You know even if I wanted to finish this I couldn't," said Ginny once Buffy walked in, an empty spoon in her hand and looking like she was about to explode.

"Good that means more for me," Buffy smiled settling on her bed next to the filled to the brim red-head and began to dig in.

"By the way, on my way up here Harry told me to remind you about tonight's meeting."

"I haven't forgotten."

"Are you going?"

"Hmm . . . I don't know." She swallowed the ice cream that was in her mouth. "It would be mean to blow it off after he worked up the guts to invite me, but I have been slacking on the slayage lately. Then again I could use the distraction after being dumped today but mentally I don't think I'd be all there because of it either so I'm kind of up in the air about it."

"Well, I say you should go. It'll finally prove to Hermione and especially to Ron that you're not who they think you are."

"Yeah, I guess but . . . " _Promise me you'll stay in the common room tonight_. She had promised. She didn't know why she had but she did. Draco wouldn't have asked her if it wasn't important. Umbridge still believed Buffy was sneaking out after hours which was of course true and maybe the old Toad would be on the hunt for her tonight, which means if Buffy were to get caught going to or coming from a secret D.A. meeting she could jeopardize everything they had worked so hard for. Not that Draco knew all about that but he did know Buffy roamed the castle at night, although he still believed she did it just for fun, and will continue to believe it if Buffy had her way. Umbridge was already harping at her tail looking for any reason to kick her out so maybe that was why Draco had made her promise to stay in. He was just looking out for her and she wasn't going to betray his trust, plus there was that whole 'a promise is a promise' thing.

"But what?" Ginny asked after Buffy had paused.

"But I . . . just remembered I've got Sunnydale letters I have to catch up on. Kinda been putting off writing to my friends lately and I should probably get to it before they disown me."

Ginny eyed her suspiciously.

"You're lying," she said. Crap, Buffy rushed her mental wheels to come up with something that could conceal her promise but then Ginny continued, "You're going out to slay aren't you?"

The wheels came to a screeching halt and steamed out in relief.

"Caught me," she smiled.

"You could give it a rest for one night."

"I've been resting for a while now. My slayer bug is itching."

Ginny couldn't argue with what came natural to Buffy and resigned, "Fine, but what am I going to tell Harry if he asks?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Tell him I'm under the weather or something. Make it up. Lie."

"You're very bad for my morals you know that."

"I know," she grinned and ate her big spoonful of ice cream.

Later that evening the Gryffindor common room, like the common rooms in other houses, was beginning to thin out. Students were leaving again in twos and threes towards the Room of Requirement for their training, well not all in twos and threes as one quartet headed in that direction.

"So she's not coming," said Fred.

"She'd rather tackle the demonology," Ginny replied.

"You know you sound more and more like her every day."

Ginny rolled her eyes, "So I keep noticing. She's like a bug. I've even heard Neville spit out a few 'duhs', 'likes', and 'muches'."

"The way she talks . . . it's almost like a disease," said Neville.

"Well that's a lovely way to put it," George said. "What do we say if they ask about her?"

"We lie. Say she's not feeling well," Ginny answered.

"At least we got a plan."

As the D.A. secretly gathered, Buffy lay in her bed slowly cleaning off the ice cream bowl. She had been dumped. By a very great guy because she was unavailable. When was she not available? Okay so she had friends now but that was good right? It's not a bad thing that she was getting along with people now. It was a plus+plus. Where the hell did he get off ending things just because people wanted to befriend her? What kind of a person does that? A selfish, evil, pig headed, sodding, sweet, smart, cute boy . . . that's who. He really was sweet. Okay, so maybe she didn't put in as much effort as she should have. And maybe she sort of sidelined the whole thing while he quarterbacked. And maybe Buffy was starting to see he had been right about some things but he didn't even–

Buffy bolted upright in her bed. _Stay out of the seventh floor corridor tonight_. The realization zapped into her brain. It had nothing to with her and Umbridge at all. Buffy ran down to the common room. It was empty now. It was too late for her to–Dobby!

"Dobby! Dobby!"

The house-elf popped in, begrudgingly so. Dobby had avoided Buffy like the plague since her arrival. After all this time he was still afraid. Just like he was with Draco. Buffy may not have laid a hand on Dobby while he served the Malfoy Family but she hadn't stopped it when anyone else did either and her words had been brutal when she had spoken to him, while the young Malfoy seemed to have been even more cruel when she had come around. Dobby had hoped to never lay eyes on Buffy Summers again but here she was and the only reason Dobby had come at her calling was because he felt obligated to do so, as he did with all the Hogwarts occupants, but he stood as far away from her as possible. Fidgeting with the hem of his makeshift clothing as his bulging eyes peeked from under his many knitted hats.

"Dobby," she said gently, kneeling down. The poor little thing cowering away made her feel even more guilty of her past self, but now was not the time. "Dobby I'm not going to hurt you, but I do need you to listen to me very carefully."

He whimpered but didn't say anything.

How was she going to get him to listen? She needed Dobby to put aside their history and help. She needed to find some sort of connection that would make him understand. Think Buffy. How well do you know him? What was the most important thing in his life? Then it hit her, actually it was more like who . . .

"Dobby, I need you to save Harry Potter."

And Dobby's eyes lit up.

* * *

Note: Late, late update, not good, not good :( Writing was so much better when it was all I had to focus on. The creative juices just seemed to flow everyday, but now with the working and all it kind of keeps getting pushed back. But thank, thank you to anyone and everyone who's still reading my story. I'm trying to push these chapters out but the pregnancy ;) keeps dragging on.

Sorry I didn't clarify this before but for references to Peacock scar please see Ch 22.

And for those of you who are wondering this my Theodore Nott

(remove the space between photobucket and .com for it to work ;)

photobucket. com/albums/aa252/marysun84/FanManip/1cc6c87f4815f2aa_Tom_Sturridge_


	60. Chapter 60

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

She wasn't coming. She was under the weather. Supposedly. She didn't want to come is what it was. Unfortunately it was a very real option that she wouldn't come. When he had asked her to join the meeting today, she said she'd think about it. She didn't exactly promise she would, though. That still didn't mean he wasn't going to be disappointed that she wasn't coming.

"He did it today."

"Today? When?"

"Right after classes."

"Oh, poor Buffy."

Poor Buffy? That was interesting, in a concerned way, of course. Harry discreetly moved closer to where Parvati and Lavender were talking while they waited for the meeting to begin.

"How did you hear about it?" asked Parvati.

"The whole school practically knows about it now. Those Slytherin girls couldn't keep their mouths shut."

"Ugh! They're so vile. Gossiping about her like that. I'm glad Buffy isn't like them anymore."

"Me too. She's so much nicer and sweeter now. Theodore's a real idiot for dumping her."

"You got that right."

The smile stretched clear across Harry's face. His insides jumped for joy! They weren't a 'they' anymore. Theodore and Buffy were over. Finished. It was-Wait. Was that why she didn't come today? Was she too heartbroken? Ginny did say she wasn't feeling well and Lavender did say it was Theodore who broke up with Buffy, giving the impression that the break up was not mutual. Guess she must've really liked the prat. Harry felt a little pang of sympathy for her then...but only a little.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Ron asked, as he and Hermione flagged him.

"What? Oh, no reason, just...really excited to start Patronuses today."

Ron grinned, "Yeah, so are we."

Everybody had been looking forwarded to learning Patronuses, though, as Harry kept reminding them, producing one in the middle of a brightly lit classroom when they were not under threat was very different from producing it when confronted by something like a Dementor.

"Oh, don't be such a killjoy," said Cho brightly, watching her silvery swan-shaped Patronus. "They're so pretty!"

"They're not supposed to be pretty, they're supposed to protect you," said Harry patiently. "What we really need is a Boggart or something; that's how I learned- I had to conjure a Patronus while the Boggart was pretending to be a Dementor -"

"But that would be really scary!" said Lavender, who was shooting puffs of silver vapor out of the end of her wand. "And I still -can't - do it!" she added angrily.

Neville was having trouble, too. His face was screwed up in concentration, but only feeble wisps of silver smoke issued from his wand tip.

"You've got to think of something happy," Harry reminded him.

"I'm trying," said Neville miserably, trying so hard his round face was actually shining with sweat.

"Harry, I think I'm doing it!" yelled Seamus, who had been brought along to his first ever D.A. meeting by Dean. "Look - ah -it's gone...but it was definitely something hairy, Harry!"

Hermione's Patronus, a shining silver otter, was gamboling around her.

"They are sort of nice, aren't they?" she said, looking at it fondly.

The door of the Room of Requirement opened and closed. Harry looked round to see who had entered, a spark of hope igniting at the thought of seeing a blonde head, but there didn't seem to be anybody there. It was a few moments before he realized that the people close to the door had fallen silent. Next thing he knew, something was tugging at his robes somewhere near the knee. He looked down and saw, to his astonishment, Dobby the house-elf peering up at him from beneath his usual eight woolly hats.

"Hi, Dobby!" he said. "What are you - What's wrong?"

The elf's eyes were wide with terror and he was shaking. The members of the D.A. closest to Harry had fallen silent; everybody in the room was watching Dobby. The few Patronuses people had managed to conjure faded away into silver mist, leaving the room looking much darker than before.

"Harry Potter, sir...Harry Potter, sir...Dobby has come to warn you...but the house-elves have been warned not to tell...but Dobby promised to help Harry Potter, sir..."

He ran head-first at the wall. Harry, who had some experience of Dobby's habits of self punishment, made to seize him, but Dobby merely bounced off the stone, cushioned by his eight hats. Hermione and a few of the other girls let out squeaks of fear and sympathy.

"What's happened, Dobby?" Harry asked, grabbing the elf's tiny arm and holding him away from anything with which he might seek to hurt himself.

"Harry Potter...she...she..."

Dobby hit himself hard on the nose with his free fist. Harry seized that, too.

"Who's 'she', Dobby?"

But he thought he knew; surely only one 'she' could induce such fear in Dobby? The elf looked up at him, slightly cross-eyed, and mouthed wordlessly.

"Umbridge?" asked Harry, horrified.

Dobby nodded, then tried to bang his head on Harry's knees. Harry held him at arm's length.

"What about her? Dobby - she hasn't found out about this - about us - about the D.A.?"

He read the answer in the elf's stricken face.

"Is she coming?" Harry asked quietly.

Dobby let out a howl, and began beating his bare feet hard on the floor.

"Yes, Harry Potter, yes!"

Harry straightened up and looked around at the motionless, terrified people gazing at the thrashing elf.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? RUN!"

At once, the whole group shot for the door.

"Harry, come on!" shrieked Hermione from the center of the knot of people now fighting to get out.

He scooped up Dobby, who was still attempting to injure himself, and ran with the elf in his arms to join the back of the queue.

"Dobby - this is an order - get back down to the kitchen with the other elves and, if she asks you whether you warned me, lie and say no! And I forbid you to hurt yourself!" he said, dropping the elf as he made it over the threshold at last and slammed the door behind him.

"Thank you, Harry Potter!" squeaked Dobby, and he streaked off.

Harry glanced left and right, the others were all moving so fast he caught only glimpses of flying heels at either end of the corridor before they vanished; he started to run right; there was a boys' bathroom up ahead, he could pretend he'd been in there all the time if he could just reach it –

"AAARGH!"

Something caught him around the ankles and he fell, skidding along on his front for six feet before coming to a halt. Someone behind him laughed. He rolled over on to his back and saw Malfoy walking toward him.

"Trip Jinx, Potter!" he said haughtily, his expression victorious. "Hey, Professor - PROFESSOR! I've got one!"

Umbridge came bustling round the far corner, breathless but wearing a delighted smile.

"It's him!" she said jubilantly at the sight of Harry. "Excellent, Draco, excellent, oh, very good - fifty points to Slytherin! I'll take him from here...stand up, Potter!"

Harry got to his feet, glaring at the pair of them. He had never seen Umbridge looking so happy. She seized his arm in a vice-like grip and turned, beaming broadly, to Malfoy.

"You hop along and see if you can round up any more of them, Draco," she said. "Tell the others to look in the library - anybody out of breath - check the bathrooms, Miss Parkinson can do the girls' ones - off you go - and you," she added in her softest, most dangerous voice, as Malfoy walked away, "you can come with me to the Headmaster's office, Potter."

Buffy waited anxiously on her bed nipping on the tip of her thumb while her left knee bobbed up and down. She was going crazy wondering- hoping Dobby had made it in time. What if he didn't? Was her stupid slow mind too late? What if-

BANG!

The door slammed open, and Lavender and Parvati rushed in, breathless and terrified.

"What happened?" Buffy asked, jumping to her feet.

"She found out!"

"Umbridge found out!"

Her heart sank. She was too late. Damn it!

"Buffy, you're...you're so lucky you didn't-"

"LET GO OF ME!"

"Ron, calm down!"

The explosion of noise screamed up from the common room and Buffy, Lavender and Parvati jumped from surprise.

"Ron, relax!"

"You can't go up there, anyway!"

"I'll find a way! Let go!"

"Ron, stop it!"

"It's her fault! IT'S ALL HER FAULT!"

Parvati and Lavender glanced nervously at Buffy. All three of them knew exactly which 'her' Ron was referring to.

It wasn't like it was before. There was no hurt or sense of shame. Ron's screams didn't cause her heart to cower. Her confidence had soared these past months and Buffy's face went as hard as stone. The final straw had been broken. This accusation of betrayal was a step too far. Buffy had ignored all these past months of cold silences and raging stares, but they were avoided long enough. The time for silence was over. It was time to put all this foolishness to rest.

"No, it's not!"

"She had nothing to do with it!"

"She had EVERYTHING to do with it!"

The voices grew louder as Buffy made her way down the stairs, with a nosy Lavender and Parvati trailing behind. Her resolve and confidence strengthened with every composed step she took.

"No, she didn't!"

"Let go!"

"Ron, listen! She wouldn't have because...because..."

"Because I didn't."

Buffy calmly walked into the scene of George and Fred holding a red-faced Ron by the arms while Ginny stood in front of him trying to reason him out of his anger. They all turned to Buffy and at the sight of her Ron's rage grew even more.

"Get off!" he shouted, releasing himself from the now lax arms of his restrainers. He marched over to Buffy who stood her ground unflinching. "You're nothing but a lying, scheming bit-"

"Ron," Hermione cut him off before he could finish the obscenity. Say what he wants but she will not allow him to use crude language.

"You couldn't wait to stab us in the back, could you?" he went on despite the small interruption. "You ran off and snitched to Umbridge as soon as you heard about the D.A."

"I didn't tell Umbridge anything," she said coolly.

"Oh, really? So we're supposed to believe that her catching on to us only after **you** found out was just a coincidence?"

All eyes flew to Buffy. The connection hadn't occurred to anyone else but now that it was brought to light other minds began to wonder...if the accusation may be true...could be true...it was too much of a coincidence...

She knew what they were thinking. Why they were looking at her the way they did. They believed him. But she wasn't going to take it lying down. Not by a long shot. She said the time for silence was over and by hell and high water it was.

"With all the noise you people make, did you honestly think she didn't already know something was up?" It felt as if a jolt of electricity had spread through the room. This was the first time Buffy had talked back to her strongest opposer. Nobody expected it, not even Ron, and it was a surprise to everybody. The finger had been pointed at her long enough and Buffy decided it was about time they faced their part in the blame. She would make them understand, just like she had made Harry. "You invited the whole damn school to your meeting at the Hog's Head, you talk about all the things you've learned at your so-called secret training in front of everybody, and just because you've got a code name of D.A., it doesn't mean the rest of the school isn't going to understand what you're saying."

"Don't try to turn this back around on us!"

"Don't try to blame me for something I didn't do!"

His face was red and his hands in fists from the amount of restraint he was using to keep from reaching for his wand.

"Why, because you're _different_ now? Because you've _changed_? It's never Buffy Summers anymore, is it? It's always got to be somebody else because you're not the same person you were," he drawled, his sardonic tone venomous. Ron walked closer to her and bore his angry eyes into hers. "You go around playing the innocent, but you're still the same exact snake you've always been."

His heated glare was not going to work and Buffy stared right back.

"And you love believing that, don't you? It's too hard for that thick head of yours to understand that I have changed."

"YOU HAVEN'T CHANGED!" he yelled, causing a few of the onlookers to jump and yelp in surprise. Buffy's face only flinched in reaction but her eyes remained defiantly on him. "Someone who's still friends with a git like Malfoy or dating a Slytherin, spying for Umbridge-"

"I'm NOT spying for anybody!"

"Telling Malfoy about us is still spying!"

Buffy felt a crawl go up her back.

"Telling..." He was really grasping at straws now, wasn't he? Buffy closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of annoyance to still the immaturity that was threatening to match his. When she looked at him again, her eyes were emotionally calm. "I didn't tell Draco or Umbridge, and before you start adding to your list, I didn't tell Theodore or anybody else about it either."

"Than how do you explain Umbridge finding out about the D.A. only after you did?"

"Do you _ever_ listen? I just-"

"Blamed everything on us like any Slytherin would do."

_Don't hit him Buffy. Don't hit him_. It was the mantra she kept repeating that was currently saving Ron Weasley's life.

"I. Did not. Tell Umbridge. Anything. With all the hell she's put me through- the hell she's put my friends through- I wouldn't tell her if my life depended on it."

He wanted to laugh, but his anger wouldn't let him.

"Nothing is ever your fault, is it? Not now, not ever."

"What the hell are-"

"Ever since you came back you've been acting the victim. Having everyone else fighting your battles for you. Walking around like you've never done anything wrong. Everyone else may have forgotten all the rotten stuff you've done, but I'll never forget because people don't change." He leaned in and spat out, "Slytherins don't change."

It was like he had spat out a curse and everyone went silent.

The air seemed thicker between them as they raged in silent stares. It felt as if the room had been engulfed in a low setting stove and everyone waited for the simmering water to boil over. Ron had said the most hurtful thing he could, not by the Slytherin label alone but by the meaning behind it, by what the Slytherin name represented in the eyes of Gryffindors. It was vile and almost cruel...to them. To Buffy, it was meaningless.

"Get over it," she said, and Ron flinched back in surprise. Everyone did. "Someone told me that once and now I'm telling you. Deal with it. Embrace the pain, spank your inner moppet, whatever, but get over it." The words were said in such a factual tone that Ron suddenly became overwhelmingly self-consciousness and he began to fidget under her unwavering stare. "I admit it. I _was_ mean. I _did_ treat everyone like crap because I wanted to, but guess what? Past is past. People change all the time. I'm sure you're not the same person you were three years ago. Hell, nobody is. I was who I was. I was a Slytherin, and I can't change what I've done. Apologizing- which I have, until I'm blue in the face won't make it go away, but I've moved on. So has everybody else. The only person still harping on what was is you and if you've noticed, you're the only one who's miserable because of it." Buffy was finally over and done with this madness and as she looked at Ron now she wondered if he ever got tired of holding on to such a pointless grudge. "Get over it, Ron."

A look of empathy on her face was the last thing they saw before Buffy turned around and went back up stairs. The matter between Buffy and Ron was far from settled but Buffy had done all she could. No regrets. If Ron wanted to continue his useless hatred, then there was nothing she could do. What happened between them from here on out was up to him.

Ron didn't speak a word as he watched her leave. The muscles in his forearms twitched and his mouth was clenched so tightly that all his saliva had evaporated. What he was feeling now, no one could guess, except that it wasn't what they thought it could be, because right now Ron was confused. He was angry because he didn't know if he should be angry. Annoyed at the nagging feeling that everything she had said might be right. Frustrated at the tiny, but growing, little part of him that really just wanted to get over it. It was all swirling and swirling and what the bloody hell was he supposed to think now?

Ron marched back up to his room in a huff. Leaving minds still reeling at the blowout they had witnessed, so much so that they stood in dumbfounded silence after it was over; which was exactly how Harry found them when he came in.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Everyone turned to the new voice in the room and their minds began to tick again. It took a while for anybody to speak up, but the first one was one Buffy's top supporters.

"Ron blamed Buffy for Umbridge finding out about the D.A.," answered Neville.

"He yelled at her," said Fred.

"She yelled at him," said George.

"We waited for them to kill each other."

"But it never came."

"Now they're both fuming up in their rooms."

"It was quite a show, really."

"Why would he blame her?" Harry asked.

"Because he found it a little strange that Umbridge found out about us only after you told Buffy. Which I have to agree is a little odd," Hermione said.

Not this again. If experiencing the debacle in the Headmaster's office wasn't enough...

"Buffy didn't tell Umbridge about the D.A.," he said tiredly. "It was Marietta," he revealed to the surprise of everyone, and then turned to Hermione. "Congratulations, Hermione, your jinx worked."

"Jinx? What jinx?" asked Ginny.

"The one that was on the parchment we all signed when we agreed to join the D.A," said Harry. "If anyone ratted us out, we'd be sure to know about it."

"You jinxed the parchment and didn't tell us?"

Hermione now faced a room full of shocked and accusing faces. So this was what it felt like to be Buffy. It was...very...very uncomfortable. Hermione shook off the intimidation and straightened her posture; now all she had to do was choose her words very carefully.

"Even though we all swore not to speak a word, certain precautions were necessary." The suspicious eyes didn't relax. "Well, it worked didn't it? Besides you had nothing to be afraid of unless you were planning on betraying the D.A. so there."

That Hermione was a sneaky one, a bit scary at times, but a sneaky one.

Eager to change the subject she turned to Harry, "How do you know it was Marietta?"

How Harry found out was quite a little story that involved Marietta's disfigurement, Dumbledore escaping Ministry officials, and the heavy use of magic. It wasn't a surprise that by the end of it, everyone was left in awe.

When Harry finally entered the dormitory, after his retelling and the answering of so many questions, it was completely dark and the only reason he was able to spot Ron's prone form was because he was actually looking for it.

"She didn't do it," he said, as he passed by the bed.

"Pfft," was Ron's mature response.

"Marietta was the one who told Umbridge, not Buffy."

The surprise to his brain caused Ron to sit upright in an instant.

"What?" he asked.

"Remember when Hermione told us she put a jinx on the parchment we all signed?" Harry said and received a nod, "Well, the results did make Eloise Midgeon's acne look like freckles."

"What are you talking about?"

"Thanks to her ratting us out Marietta now has the word SNEAK spread across her face in disgusting purple pustules. Serves her right for betraying the D.A. if you ask me."

This was not good. The shouting match replayed in Ron's head and he couldn't help but wince at some of his choice words.

"Does, er...does..." he stuttered out.

Harry couldn't help a smile at Ron's pride causing a hindrance to his question.

"I don't know. Ginny must've told her by now," he replied and Ron's face fell even more. "I wouldn't worry about anyone being mad at you for what you said though, besides Buffy, of course, we're all kind of used to you by now."

"Thanks," he muttered sarcastically.

* * *

_BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC _

_Dolores Jane Umbridge (High Inquisitor) has replaced Albus Dumbledore as Head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-eight. _

_Signed: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic _

The notices had gone up all around the school overnight, and aside from Slytherin, everyone else was enraged at the news and afraid of what would become of Hogwarts now...except for the angry vengeful ones, of course.

Buffy stomped into the common room cursing out her rage as she headed for the portrait exit.

" . . . evil, crazy, bug-eyed, pink-infested, fly-eating, frog freak-"

"Someone cut her off at the pass!" Ginny's voice ordered from somewhere up the girl's stairway.

But no one moved or batted an eyelid, apparently not believing the urgency of her request.

"Care to tell us why?" asked Fred casually, eyeing over a page of one of his school books.

"No reason, just gonna go punch Umbridge right in her gonads," Buffy said flippantly.

"Oh," he nodded, and then the red flag came up when the statement registered. "Oh! O-oh no!"

Everyone else snapped into high alert right along with him and George ran over to Buffy just as Ginny reappeared, cheeks flushed from running.

"Upsy daisy," he said, reaching for the tiny blonde.

"Hey! What are–?" And George threw her over his shoulder. "Put me down right now or I **will** hurt you."

"Not with a room full of eye witnesses," he smiled, spinning her around once.

"Try me."

He paused.

"All right, down you go."

The moment her feet touched the ground, Buffy resumed her determined destination, but Fred immediately stepped in her way.

"Hey, hey, hey, let's take a deep breath and-" She ignored him and veered around but Fred, now annoyed at being so easily dismissed, cut her off again. "Hey! I said hey, hey, hey."

"So I'm going to go out on a limb here and say you heard all about Umbridge's promotion," said Harry.

"Uh, promotion? No. Usurpation? Yes. Will be getting her ass kicked in the next fifteen minutes? Oh-ho, yeah."

"She's quite the spitfire isn't she?" commented Seamus and Buffy hit him with such a fuming stare that he felt a shiver go up his spine.

"Take it back, take it back, take it back, take it back," Neville warned under his breath next to him.

"S-s-sorry."

Buffy rolled her eyes and made her way to the exit again, but Ginny blocked her path and held her still by the shoulders knowing, that Buffy wouldn't lay a hand on her...hopefully.

"Okay, Buffy, let's use our brains here," she said in a calming voice, "ass kicking will lead to an expulsion and an expulsion will lead to-"

"A bruised Umbridge by a very happy Buffy."

"No, an expelled Buffy who will be sent home to a very angry mother who has the authority to never let Buffy see the light of day again."

The seconds ticked by and Buffy's shoulders sagged. Well, if Ginny was gonna be all reasonable about it.

"I hate logic," she muttered, the fight in her eyes dimmed...for now.

"Come on, let's go get you some fresh air," said Neville wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "We might even find you a nice tree to punch for a few hours." And under their guard, Neville and Ginny walked Buffy out of the room.

"She seems..." Hermione began.

"Angry?" asked Harry.

"Mental?" asked Seamus, his insides still shivering in fear.

"Violent," she concluded.

"Don't know why you stopped her," Ron said.

"Because she would've gotten expelled," George replied.

"Well, yeah," he said carelessly and everyone else rolled their eyes, "but she could've put Umbridge out of commission for a while. At least long enough for McGonagall to be in charge."

The Twins looked at each other.

"I'm starting to think we made the wrong choice," said Fred.

Umbridge's ascension, Dumbledore's great escape from Hogwarts, it was all anyone could talk about. Everyone had found out how Dumbledore had overcome two Aurors, the High Inquisitor, the Minister for Magic, and Percy Weasley, Junior Assistant, to escape Hogwarts and any trip to Azkaban without a trace. How he had also bravely claimed responsibility for the D.A. so that Harry wouldn't. They had also found out how Harry and Marietta were the only two students to have witnessed the whole ordeal. And as Marietta was in the hospital wing due to her fortun-unfortunate accident, Harry was the lucky one to be besieged with requests to retell his first- hand account of the spectacle to the curious student body.

Quite a few things also came to light that day. One was labeled the one and only bright side, as bright as it can be at a time like this; it seemed that Umbridge, per Ernie McMillian by way of the Frat Friar, had tried to get back into Dumbledore's office last night after the Ministry troupe had searched the castle and grounds for him, but she couldn't get past the gargoyle. The Headmaster's office had sealed itself off against her, proving that even the castle wasn't going to stand for Dumbledore's injustice, and Umbridge had thrown quite the little tantrum at the discovery.

But despite that ray of sunshine, another storm of gloom had come to rain on the residents of the castle. If Umbridge's rise to Headmistress wasn't enough, it seemed she had taken it upon herself to enact a new little defense group of her own. The Inquisitorial Squad. A select group of students, mostly if not all Slytherins, who were supportive of the Ministry of Magic were hand-picked by Professor Umbridge herself to rain terror on the students, with the ability to dock house points whenever they pleased, which was often and for no apparent reason. It was the golden age of the Slytherin House and it seems they were bent on milking it for all it was worth.

The students and staff of Hogwarts felt like prisoners. Imprisoned and suffocated. And if history taught anything, it was that with oppression, it won't be long until rebellion follows.

So, enter Fred and George.

It was quite the little interesting conversation the twins had with Ron, Harry and Hermione before lunch that day.

"Anyway...we've decided we don't care about getting into trouble any more," said Fred.

"Have you ever?" asked Hermione.

"Course we have," said George. "Never been expelled, have we?"

"We've always known where to draw the line," said Fred.

"We might have put a toe across it occasionally."

"But we've always stopped short of causing real mayhem."

"But now?" said Ron tentatively.

"Well, now -" said George.

"- what with Dumbledore gone -" said Fred.

"- we reckon a bit of mayhem —"

"— is exactly what our dear new Head deserves."

"You mustn't!" whispered Hermione. "You really mustn't! She'd love a reason to expel you!"

"You don't get it, Hermione, do you?" said Fred, smiling at her. "We don't care about staying anymore. We'd walk out right now if we weren't determined to do our bit for Dumbledore first. So, anyway," he checked his watch, "phase one is about to begin. I'd get in the Great Hall for lunch, if I were you, that way the teachers will see you can't have had anything to do with it."

"Anything to do with what?" said Hermione anxiously.

"You'll see," said George. "Run along, now."

Fred and George turned away and disappeared into the swelling crowd descending the stairs towards lunch.

"I think we should get out of here, you know," said Hermione nervously. "Just in case."

"Yeah, all right," said Ron, and the three of them moved towards the doors to the Great Hall, but Harry had barely glimpsed the day's ceiling of scudding white clouds when somebody tapped him on the shoulder and, turning, he found himself almost nose-to-nose with Filch.

"The Headmistress would like to see you, Potter," he leered.

"I didn't do it," said Harry stupidly, thinking of whatever Fred and George were planning.

Filch's jowls wobbled with silent laughter.

"Guilty conscience, eh?" he wheezed. "Follow me."

Harry glanced back at Ron and Hermione, who were both looking worried. He shrugged, and followed Filch back into the Entrance Hall.

Umbridge's office, so very familiar to Harry from his many detentions, was the same as usual except for the large wooden block lying across the front of her desk on which golden letters spelled the word: HEADMISTRESS. Also, his Firebolt and Fred and George's Cleansweeps, which he saw with a pang, were chained and padlocked to a stout iron peg in the wall behind the desk.

Umbridge was sitting behind the desk, busily scribbling on some of her pink parchment, but she looked up and smiled widely at their entrance.

"Thank you, Argus," she said sweetly.

"Not at all, Ma'am, not at all," said Filch, bowing as low as his rheumatism would permit, and exiting backwards.

"Sit," said Umbridge curtly, pointing towards a chair. "Well, now, what would you like to drink?"

"What?" said Harry, quite sure he had misheard her.

"To drink, Mr. Potter," she said, smiling still more widely. "Tea? Coffee? Pumpkin juice?"

As she named each drink, she gave her short wand a wave, and a cup or glass of it appeared on her desk.

"Nothing, thank you," said Harry.

"I wish you to have a drink with me," she said, her voice becoming dangerously sweet. And we all know why, now, don't we? A cup of Deja Vu, please. "Choose one."

"Fine...tea then," said Harry, shrugging.

Now, children, all together, 'Uh-oh'.

She got up and made quite a performance of adding milk with her back to him. She then bustled around the desk with it, smiling in a sinisterly sweet fashion.

"There," she said, handing it to him. "Drink it before it gets cold, won't you? Well, now, Mr. Potter...I thought we ought to have a little chat, after the distressing events of last night."

He said nothing. She settled herself back into her seat and waited. When several long moments had passed in silence, she said gaily, "You're not drinking up!"

He raised the cup to his lips and then, just as suddenly, lowered it. One of the horrible painted kittens behind Umbridge had great round blue eyes just like Mad-Eye Moody's magical one and it had just occurred to Harry what Mad-Eye would say if he ever heard that Harry had drunk anything offered by a known enemy.

"What's the matter?" said Umbridge, who was still watching him closely. "Do you want sugar?"

"No."

He raised the cup to his lips again and pretended to take a sip, though keeping his mouth tightly closed. Umbridge's smile widened.

"Good," she whispered. "Very good. Now then...where is Albus Dumbledore?"

"No idea," said Harry promptly.

"Drink up, drink up," she said, still smiling. "Now, Mr. Potter, let us not play childish games. I know that you know where he has gone. You and Dumbledore have been in this together from the beginning. Consider your position, Mr. Potter..."

"I don't know where he is," Harry repeated.

He pretended to drink again. She was watching him very closely.

"Very well," she said, though she looked displeased. "In that case, you will kindly tell me the whereabouts of Sirius Black."

Harry's stomach turned over and his hand holding the teacup shook so that it rattled in its saucer. He tilted the cup to his mouth with his lips pressed together, so that some of the hot liquid trickled down on to his robes.

"I don't know," he said, a little too quickly.

"Mr. Potter, let me remind you that it was I who almost caught the criminal Black in the Gryffindor fire in October. I know perfectly well it was you he was meeting and if I had had any proof neither of you would be at large today, I promise you. I repeat, Mr. Potter...where is Sirius Black?"

"No idea," said Harry loudly. "Haven't got a clue."

They stared at each other so long that Harry felt his eyes watering. Then Umbridge stood up.

"Very well, Potter, I will take your word for it this time, but be warned: the might of the Ministry stands behind me. All channels of communication in and out of this school are being monitored. A Floo Network Regulator is keeping watch over every fire in Hogwarts - except my own, of course. My Inquisitorial Squad is opening and reading all owl post entering and leaving the castle. And Mr. Filch is observing all secret passages in and out of the castle. If I find a shred of evidence..."

BOOM!

The very floor of the office shook. Umbridge slipped sideways, clutching her desk for support, and looking shocked.

"What was -?"

She was gazing towards the door. Harry took the opportunity to empty his almost-full cup of tea into the nearest vase of dried flowers. He could hear people running and screaming several floors below.

"Back to lunch you go, Potter!" cried Umbridge, raising her wand and dashing out of the office.

Harry gave her a few seconds' start, then hurried after her to see what the source of all the uproar was. It was not difficult to find. One floor down, pandemonium reigned. Somebody (and Harry had a very shrewd idea who) had set off what seemed to be an enormous crate of enchanted fireworks. Dragons comprised entirely of green and gold sparks were soaring up and down the corridors, emitting loud fiery blasts and bangs as they went; shocking-pink Catherine wheels five feet in diameter were whizzing lethally through the air like so many flying saucers; rockets with long tails of brilliant silver stars were ricocheting off the walls; sparklers were writing swear words in midair of their own accord; firecrackers were exploding like mines everywhere Harry looked, and instead of burning themselves out, fading from sight or fizzling to a halt, these pyrotechnical miracles seemed to be gaining in energy and momentum the longer he watched. Filch and Umbridge were standing, apparently transfixed in horror, halfway down the stairs. As Harry watched, one of the larger Catherine wheels seemed to decide that what it needed was more room to maneuver; it whirled towards Umbridge and Filch with a sinister 'wheeeeeeeeee'.

They both yelled with fright and ducked, and it soared straight out of the window behind them and off across the grounds. Meanwhile, several of the dragons and a large purple bat that was smoking ominously took advantage of the open door at the end of the corridor to escape towards the second floor.

"Hurry, Filch, hurry!" shrieked Umbridge, "they'll be all over the school unless we do something - Stupefy!"

A jet of red light shot out of the end of her wand and hit one of the rockets. Instead of freezing in midair, it exploded with such force that it blasted a hole in a painting of a soppy-looking witch in the middle of a meadow; she ran for it just in time, reappearing seconds later squashed into the next painting, where a couple of wizards playing cards stood up hastily to make room for her.

Harry had seen enough; laughing, he ducked down low, ran to a door he knew was concealed behind a tapestry a little way along the corridor and slipped through it to find Fred and George hiding just behind it, listening to Umbridge and Filch's yells and quaking with suppressed mirth.

"Impressive," Harry said quietly, grinning. "Very impressive...you'll put Dr. Filibuster out of business, no problem..."

"Cheers," whispered George, wiping tears of laughter from his face. "Oh, I hope she tries Vanishing them next... they multiply by ten every time you try."

The fireworks continued to burn and to spread all over the school that afternoon. The upshot of it all was that Professor Umbridge spent her first afternoon as Headmistress running all over the school answering the summonses of the other teachers, none of whom seemed able to rid their rooms of the fireworks without her.

Fred and George were heroes that night in the Gryffindor common room and everyone was celebrating. Buffy's little radio had been brought down and raised up to full volume seeing as they didn't need to worry about being caught for having a forbidden item as everyone's loud singing drowned out the majority of the music.

"CEEEEELEBRATE GOOD TIMES, COME ON! LET'S CELEBRATE! CEEEEELEBRATE GOOD TIMES, COME ON! LET'S CELEBRATE..."

Everyone was in good spirits. Hermione had even congratulated Fred and George for their stunt, much to their surprise, and had put off doing her school work as she was, "feeling a bit...rebellious."

Butterbeers were tossed around; people were dancing and jumping every which way.

"YAHOO!"

It wasn't just Fred and George's wonderful scheme that had everyone rejoicing, the loud noise and the blatant disregard for properness was a like a big 'up yours' to Umbridge, who was probably fast asleep, ribbeting away from her exhausting day.

Everyone had been wound too tight lately and they were in desperate need of a break and there was no better way than to, 'CEEEEELEBRATE GOOD TIMES..."

"A lady should never be empty handed," said George, handing Buffy her third bottle of Butterbeer.

"Why is it only guys who say that?" she asked Ginny.

"Because it takes a male mind to think that way," she said while looking at her brother.

"I resent that," he said, slighted. "How dare you generalize my brilliance?"

"Oh, yeah, real brilliant," Buffy teased and took a sip from her bottle.

Fred came along behind them and put an arm around Buffy, turning her around.

"Look at 'em over there," he said, jutting his chin to Harry and Ron, who were sitting on the couch looking instead of participating in the on-goings around them. "Sticking out like sore thumbs."

"Sore is right," said Ginny, staring at an awkward looking Ron.

"Such a shame, even Hermione's loosened up a bit," George said, his eyes traveling over to where the brunette was chatting away with a mix of 5th/6th/7th year girls.

"Yes, a shame," Fred said, before the wicked smile appeared. "Oh, Neville! My bottles, please."

The sound of glass hitting glass was heard just seconds before Neville appeared.

"I'd like for it to go on the record that I'm only the messenger," he said.

"Chicken," said Fred, taking the bottles.

"And I'm going to ask an alarmed 'why' for that defensive statement," said Buffy.

"Nothing to be alarmed about. It's not like we'll be poisoning them. It's just two little innocent bottles of Butterbeer," Fred said a little too casually.

George took one, unscrewed the top and took a whiff. The wicked smile seemed to have jumped from one brother to the next.

"Spiked Butterbeer," he said.

"You're drugging them!" exclaimed Ginny.

"Oh, relax. It's just a little Firewhiskey. Not even enough to be noticeable," Fred explained.

"George noticed it."

"That's because I am a connoisseur of fine liquor."

Ginny had a scary air about her when she scolded, sort of like how Mrs. Weasley would get, which was why the Twins took a second to convince themselves that this was only their little sister they were dealing with. Mentally emphasizing the 'little' was the only thing keeping them from running away.

"Let me see that," said Buffy grabbing the opened bottle and taking a sniff. "Okay, very noticeable." And she handed it back.

"Ah, but for two reasons. One: you knew it was spiked and two: your senses are all supernaturally enhanced so...all in all...you don't count."

Excuse me? She didn't count? Buffy stomped on George's foot and nonchalantly drank her butterbeer as she watched him jump up and down with an 'ow!'

"Alright, alright, enough chitchat," said Fred, placing the top back onto the opened bottle. "Time to undo the stiff shirts."

With an audience of four, Fred walked over to Harry and Ron, and with a few friendly words, a wink and smile, he handed the bottles to the unsuspecting victims before walking back to the foursome.

"Don't be obvious about it," he said.

Facing away, they 'absorbed' themselves in a conversation while sneaking peeks until Ron and Harry took a drink and a drink and a drink, apparently not noticing a single thing.

"Cheers!" grinned Fred in success.

"Cheers!" They all clanged bottles and the party restarted.

_I like to move it move it, I like to move it move it, I like to move it move it, you like to _"MOVE IT!"

The jumpers and shoes had come off as the majority sweated up a dancing storm. Well, those who were still awake anyway. Most of the younger students had gone to bed, exhausted by the never ending energy the older students seemed to be in possession of.

Buffy had completely immersed herself in the scene. It had been ages since she had felt the thumping beat of music under her moving feet and the energy of people letting loose. Ginny and Neville had been her permanent enthusiastic dancing partners, with slight appearances from the usual suspects that had packed themselves in. The smile never left Buffy's beaming face and she couldn't remember the last time she had this much fun. The satisfaction of feeling carefree and how anything that was outside the Gryffindor Tower didn't exist. It was raging and fun, but it was also getting hot and dehydrating.

"I'm gonna get something to drink!" she told to Neville and Ginny and squeezed her way toward the refreshments.

It was getting too stuffy in here. Ron had removed his jumper and tie, but it did very little to ease the discomfort. Something cold to drink, that was the trick. He arrived at the table that held all the refreshments and picked up a cold bottle and what was supposed to be an easy twist off cap wasn't so easy. His palm had begun to hurt from his efforts and try is as he might, it wouldn't budge. What the bloody hell was wrong with— there was a tap on his shoulder and when Ron turned around, there Buffy Summers was, and the now persistent confusion within him appeared again. He looked on dumbfounded as she took the bottle from his hands, simply removed the top and placed it back into his grasp without saying a word. The moment he felt the cold of the glass again, he regained his senses and, with not even so much as a 'thank you', walked away.

"At least he didn't throw it in my face," Buffy said to herself.

"Or smash it on the floor," Harry said behind her.

She turned around to give him an acknowledging smile and they both quietly watched as Ron continued to his little spot with Cormac and Seamus while drinking from his bottle.

"I think that's progress," said Harry. "He trusts you enough to actually drink something you touched now."

"Yeah," she said through a sigh, "feels weird, doesn't it?"

"Definitely."

Ron glanced at them quickly, more specifically at Buffy, and his puzzled expression was the last expression he was going to hold for the rest of the night.

"Better than glaring," Buffy mumbled, and turned a bright expression to Harry. "Having fun?"

His grin came along with a pleased head nod.

"It feels nice to forget about stuff for a while," he said.

"It does, doesn't it?" she said smiling, knowing how much Harry would like to forget about everything that had been going on. However, she had noticed that all his forgetting had been done while only standing and chatting, and Buffy knew from experience that the best way- the right way was to sweat it out. "But I bet it would be more fun to forget if you danced a little."

By how big Harry's eyes got, it was as if Buffy had just asked him to grow wings.

"D-dance?" he sputtered out nervously. "N-n-no, I don't, I don't dance."

"Ah, come on, you can shake, shake the stress away. Best remedy in the world. Trust me."

He shook his head.

"After last year's embarrassment at the ball, I've, um, sort of sworn off dancing. Forever."

She gave an incredulous look. "You couldn't've been that bad."

"No, I was."

Boys and their over-exaggerations. Buffy placed her hands on his shoulders and faced him toward the dancing crowd.

"Look around you. It's not exactly the Russian Ballet in here." He looked around and she was right. There were arms and legs flailing about like fishes out of water and some arms and legs weren't even on the beat but nobody, not one person, seemed to care. "Come on, just do the average two-step. It's all the rage in self-conscious dancers."

"I..." Harry said still unsure as he continued to watch.

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction Buffy took a hold of his hand and began to pull.

"Too late."

With his mouth frozen in a silent unfinished 'wha', Harry was dragged into the middle of the madness and did as he was told. He shuffled into a bashful one-two step. His shoulders were hunched over as he nervously waited for people to point and laugh, but as it happens, no one did. When he noticed Buffy smiling at her own enjoyment, he began to relax. Maybe this whole dancing thing wasn't—oof! Wasn't so safe. One second, he was shuffling; the next, he was pushed right into Buffy. He placed his hands on her upper arms to steady himself, and when he looked at her, they both blushed at how close they had gotten. Nervous little smiles appeared on their lips as they moved back as much as they could, which was not an easy thing to do because the Harry/Buffy smush seemed to be a deliberate action. Fred, George, Neville and Ginny had surrounded them and began to do a funny little dance one of the Muggle-born students had begun to do called 'the bump' when a little song came on...

"BURN BABY BURN!"_ Disco inferno! _"BURN BABY BURN!"_ Burn that mama down. _"BURN BABY BURN!"_ Disco inferno! _"BURN BABY BURN!"_ Burn that mama down_...

"Uh-oh, dance-crush!" Buffy said smiling.

Everyone sang at the top of their lungs to the words they knew, bumping away to the beat, laughing, smiling and forgetting the outside world with every song that played for the rest of the evening.

By the time it was all over, the common room was a mess, there were people passed out on the floor and every single person in the Gryffindor Tower had fallen into the most exhausted, satisfying, peaceful sleep they could imagine.

* * *

Note: First off, if you kill the writer for not updating faster a dead writer cannot write any future chapters...okay...remember that ;) And most importantly, I had this chapter for a few weeks sitting on my computer, but there was some reviewing issues that came about that were out of my control so unfortunately that was the reason for the lateness of my posting. Luckily this chapter is a little on the longer side and wonderfully reviewed by Miss Annie, okay class all together now 'Thank you Miss Annie!' :)

Just for FYI-ness (Yes it's a word sometimes). I really, really love! love! to write this fanfic but lately it seems that life and work has been blocking my creativity and it's really starting to piss me off :( I try to write ever chance I get, so I want to thank everybody who's bared with me on this. I want to finish it as fast as I can, without sacrificing my vision of the story of course. I've honestly planned out the story for the next two books of the series and I'm so looking forward to writing them, but until then I'll just keep feeding Sam (the, right now angry, creative monkey) until he poops some of the creativeness out :)

Oh, also, I keep forgetting to answer questions some people have posted in past reviews, I always mean to, really I do, but I get so wrapped up in the writing and rushing of posting new chapters that I forget. So if you've asked a question I didn't answer I'm so sorry. And if I've yet to answer any of them in chapters that were posted after the question I'm sorry. There's always the option of sending me a message :)


	61. Chapter 61

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

"Will you wait?"

"I'm not talking to you."

Buffy kept walking and Draco kept following.

"I'm not going to apologize," he said.

"Yeah, that's the problem," she shot back.

He stopped and huffed angrily, watching her walk farther away. Of all the pig-headed, stubborn, dim-witted, annoying— women! He ran after her again and, grabbing her arm, he spun her around to face him.

"You didn't have to do that you know," she said, before he could speak. "They weren't doing anything wrong."

"They were breaking Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four," he said with a haughty smirk.

"But that's not why you did it," she said, unwilling to let Draco give himself an easy way out. "You're doing it for the same reason you're docking house points. Because you can."

He didn't want to fight. When Buffy got angry, she would say things she didn't mean, do things she would regret and make a mess she'd eventually have to clean up later. He knew how unclear her mind would get and Draco didn't want to fight.

"Those sniveling weasels deserve every house point I take, and you know that, that stupid defense group was against the rules. Every single one of them knew it; that's why they kept it a secret."

But that didn't mean he wouldn't.

"They kept it a secret because they knew something like this would happen. Once word got out, Umbridge came barging in and took it away," she argued on their behalf. "And you helped her."

Draco hated seeing the disappointment in her eyes, even more than seeing the anger. At least when she got angry, he could give her some space to cool off, but when Buffy got disappointed, it felt as if Draco had been told that magic was just an illusion.

"They were breaking the rules," he repeated, his one and only defense. A defense that Buffy dismissed.

"Well, what about me huh? I've broken the rules and you haven't turned me in."

"That's different."

"No, it's not. I've broken at least a dozen of them and you've never said anything to Umbridge or anyone about it."

"No matter what you do, I'll never say a word and you know it."

She did know it and the moment he said it, it felt like something had grabbed a hold of her frustration and anger and pulled back. She recomposed her emotions and the tone of her voice.

"They weren't doing anything wrong," she repeated. "You can't blame them for wanting to protect themselves. Under Umbridge and Fudge's stupidity, everyone has become sitting ducks. The D.A. knew what they had to do, so they did it." Buffy took a step closer to him and lowered her voice so no one else would hear. "I know you know Voldemort's back." Draco immediately looked away and swallowed thickly at the sound of the name. Buffy ignored the reaction, used to the reactions some people had of hearing Voldemort's name. "The moment he shows his face, none of this, not house points, not school rules, not clubs or badges, is going to mean anything. Open your eyes, Draco."

When Buffy turned and walked away again, he didn't try to stop her. Draco stood there with his mind reeling at her words, unaware that the majority of the courtyard had been privy to their argument or that because of it, one redheaded Weasley was teetering even more on the edge of reason vs. pettiness.

* * *

It was hard to swallow. Everything he had seen. The way his father had behaved. The way Sirius had behaved. The early hatred his mother had for his father. The sympathy he was feeling for Snape. The world was not like it was just hours ago. Harry should have never looked into that Pensieve. He should've left Snape's memories alone. Now, not only did it cost him his Occlumency Lessons, which wasn't exactly the worst thing in the world, but what he did lose was the innocent, proud view he had of his father. Harry had been proud to be James Potter's son. Took pride every time someone said he was just like him, but he couldn't help but feel cold after witnessing the malicious, cruel, bullying his father had subjected Snape to for no other reason than because . . . because . . . just BECAUSE! That was it! That was the reason!

Harry had been mulling over the revelations all through Easter holiday. Not telling anyone what he had seen or why he was no longer taking Occlumency lessons from Snape. Most people thought his sour mood was because of the fight he had with Cho about her sneaky friend Marietta, but right now, that fight and Cho were the furthest things from his mind.

Ginny had found him in the library, sulking over his books, studying for the shortly coming O.W.L.s. She handed him one of the specially decorated Easter eggs Mrs. Weasley had sent over to each of her children and Buffy and Harry. They sat in conversation for a bit before he had finally admitted at least part of why he was so gloomy.

"I wish I could talk to Sirius," he muttered. "But I know I can't."

Ginny continued to watch him thoughtfully. More to give himself something to do than because he really wanted any, Harry unwrapped his Easter egg, broke off a large bit and put it into his mouth.

"Well," said Ginny slowly, helping herself to a bit of egg, too, "if you really want to talk to Sirius, I expect we could think of a way to do it."

"Come on," said Harry dully. "With Umbridge policing the fires and reading all our mail?"

"The thing about growing up with Fred and George," said Ginny thoughtfully, "is that you sort of start thinking anything's possible if you've got enough nerve."

Harry chewed on another piece of chocolate as the wheels inside his head turned. All he needed was enough nerve . . .

As though to underline the importance of their upcoming examinations, a batch of pamphlets, leaflets and notices concerning various wizarding careers appeared on the tables in Gryffindor Tower along with yet another notice on the board, which read:

_All fifth-years are required to attend a short meeting with their Head of House during the first week of the summer term to discuss their future careers. Times of individual appointments are listed below . . . _

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat in the common room, looking over the offered pamphlets where somewhere their futures were held. '_SO YOU THINK YOU'D LIKE TO WORK IN MUGGLE RELATIONS?' 'HAVE YOU GOT WHAT IT TAKES TO TRAIN SECURITY TROLLS?' 'MAKE A BANG AT THE DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL ACCIDENTS AND CATASTROPHES'._

"Hey," said a voice in Harry's ear. He looked round; Fred and George had come to join them.

"Ginny's had a word with us about you," said Fred. "She says you need to talk to Sirius?"

"What?" said Hermione sharply.

"Yeah . . . " said Harry, trying to sound casual, "yeah, I thought I'd like -"

"Don't be so ridiculous," said Hermione, straightening up and looking at him as though she could not believe her eyes. "With Umbridge groping around in the fires and frisking all the owls?"

"Well, we think we can find a way around that," said George, smiling. "It's a simple matter of causing a diversion. Now, you might have noticed that we have been rather quiet on the mayhem front during the Easter holidays?"

"What was the point, we asked ourselves, of disrupting leisure time?" continued Fred. "No point at all, we answered ourselves. And of course, we'd have messed up people's studying, too, which would be the very last thing we'd want to do."

He gave Hermione a sanctimonious little nod. She looked rather taken aback by this thoughtfulness.

"But it's business as usual from tomorrow," Fred continued briskly. "And if we're going to be causing a bit of uproar, why not do it so that Harry can have his chat with Sirius?"

"Yes, but still," said Hermione, "even if you do cause a diversion, how is Harry supposed to talk to him?"

"Umbridge's office," said Harry quietly.

He had been thinking about it and could come up with no alternative. Umbridge herself had told him that the only fire that was not being watched was her own.

"Are - you - insane?" said Hermione in a hushed voice.

Ron had lowered his leaflet on jobs in the Cultivated Fungus Trade and was watching the conversation warily.

"I don't think so," said Harry, shrugging.

"And how are you going to get in there in the first place?"

Harry was ready for this question.

"Sirius's knife," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"Christmas before last Sirius gave me a knife that'll open any lock," said Harry. "So even if she's bewitched the door so Alohomora won't work, which I bet she has -"

"What do you think about this?" Hermione demanded of Ron, and Harry was reminded irresistibly of Mrs. Weasley appealing to her husband during Harry's first dinner in Grimmauld Place.

"I dunno," said Ron, looking alarmed at being asked to give an opinion. "If Harry wants to do it, it's up to him, isn't it?"

"Spoken like a true friend and Weasley," said Fred, clapping Ron hard on the back. "Right, then. We're thinking of doing it tomorrow, just after lessons, because it should cause maximum impact if everybody's in the corridors - Harry, we'll set it off in the east wing somewhere, draw her right away from her own office — I reckon we should be able to guarantee you, what, twenty minutes?" he said, looking at George.

"Easy," said George.

"What sort of diversion is it?" asked Ron.

"You'll see, little bro'," said Fred, as he and George got up again. "At least, you will if you trot along to Gregory the Smarmy's corridor round about five o'clock tomorrow."

Hermione had a very bad feeling about this, and considering all her years spent around Fred and George, that feeling would no doubt be proven right.

Meanwhile, in another part of the castle . . .

It wasn't until Hogwarts students hit their fifth year that they really started to appreciate the school library. Not only for the many informative books it held, but also for the quiet, studious atmosphere it presented. Or in today's case, the sturdy tables.

"What's she doing?" asked Neville, sliding into one of the empty chairs.

"I think she's trying to give herself a concussion," replied Luna.

Neville curiously watched Buffy bang her head on the library's table for a moment, a flicker of concern beat in his chest before he shrugged it off as he normally did when Buffy did things he didn't understand. He took out his books, quill, ink pot and pieces of parchment from his bag and placed them on top the oak wood.

"What I'm doing is hoping that if I bang my head just right, I might be able to rattle whatever information I've managed to soak up into an exact order so I won't have to read it again," Buffy said, her head now resting on the tabletop. "You know, I bet two galleons that the O.W.L.s were invented just so the professors would have something to torture the kids with. Just like those stupid SATs."

"The what?" asked Neville.

"Muggle-American equivalent of NEWT exams."

Neville shrugged again and proceeded to take his notes.

"You've been studying very hard; I'm positive you'll pass your O.," said Luna confidently.

Head still on the table and with a heavy sigh, Buffy replied a sincere, "Thanks, Luna."

"I think you're stressing yourself out too much," Neville said. "When you're not in class or out patrolling," he lowered his voice on 'patrolling', "you're studying all the time. I think you just need to relax and you'll do great."

Buffy finally lifted her head and smiled at the both of them, but when she once again saw the stack of books and parchments that held her notes, her head dropped back down again in a hard thump.

"Ow," she sad flatly.

Neville and Luna loved Buffy, they really did, but sometimes they wondered if they could smack some sense into her without being on the receiving end of a full slayer attack.

The light outside had dimmed to a faint glow and after several more pieces of parchment were added to the stack of notes and more information was stored inside their brains, Buffy, Neville and Luna finally decided to call it quits.

While loading up her bag and spotting a funny looking creature that reminder her of a demon she saw in Sunnydale once on the cover of one of Luna's books, Buffy suddenly remembered- "Oh, hey, Luna, I almost forgot to tell you, Giles sent over more information on demons and the such. He said he couldn't find anything on the Klara . . . Clarence . . . "

"Glangersnap?" she asked helpfully.

"Wow, I was way off," she said to Neville.

"Not even close," he said.

Buffy gave a 'meh' shrug and continued on to what she was going to say.

"Anyway, Giles also said not to fret 'cause there's still like a bunch of different types of demons that have yet to be discovered." She hauled the bag over her shoulder. "If you're still interested, the stuff he sent over is up in my room if you wanna to take a look."

"Oh, that would be wonderful. I would love to," Luna replied, slinging her bag over her shoulder as well. "Did Mr. Giles manage to find that demon he was searching for last week?"

"Actually, it was Willow who found it," she said, the three of them walking towards the exit. "She's been getting really good with the researching, she's like mini-watcher now."

"It sounds like Sunnydale is building its own Watcher's Council," Neville said.

"Except without the added dental and medical and the benefit of being like six thousand miles away from the Hellmouth like the wimpy certified Watcher's Council," she pointed out.

When Buffy, Neville and Luna walked into the Gryffindor common room, the first one to notice their appearance was also the most excited.

"There she is, the lady of the hour!" Fred exclaimed, his open arms pointing towards Buffy.

"The what of the what?" she asked.

"We heard a funny little thing about you," George said.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously and said, "Define funny."

"We'll get to that."

"But first."

The Twins were acting very strange, like they had just discovered the greatest secret in the world. Everyone was trading glances, wondering what was going on.

"Did you know that house-elves liked to brag to each other?" Fred asked to no one in particular.

"What a little surprise that was," George said, as Buffy, Neville and Luna walked closer to the couch where George, Fred, Ron, Harry and Hermione were gathered.

"We were in the kitchens earlier and we hear this familiar little voice."

"Going on and on about how he had saved Harry Potter."

"Saved him just the other day, mind you."

Harry didn't need to be told which house-elf.

"Dobby," he said knowingly.

"Right on the nose, Mr. Potter," said George while touching the tip of his own nose. "Little Dobby went on about how he had warned the great Harry Potter about Umbridge just in the nick of time."

"And now here comes the funny part," Fred told Buffy.

"Turns out Dobby had a little help. Now what did he say . . . " George said, tapping his chin in thought.

"Oh, I remember," Fred said taking the lead. He and George stared directly at Buffy with the most pleased expression in their eyes. "He said, 'If it hadn't been for Buffy Summers, Dobby wouldn't have gotten to Harry Potter in time. If Buffy Summers hadn't told Dobby to warn Harry Potter and friends of Harry Potter, they would have been in big trouble.'"

"His exact words," George said, adding a complimentary nod.

The room went silent; the only noise was that of the crackling and popping logs in the fireplace.

"You . . . told Dobby to warn us?" asked Hermione.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Neville asked her.

It was very odd. Buffy had grown so used to the angry, bitter, accusing looks from these people that when she became on the receiving end of astonished, glad ones, it caused her to feel embarrassed and become nearly speechless.

"Well . . . I . . . " she stuttered out wishing they would just stop staring. "It's-it's not a big deal, really. I just . . . look, it didn't work okay, I mean, he didn't even get there in time. Umbridge still found out about the D.A. and Harry got caught, Dumbledore got fired. I...I was too late."

She lowered her eyes, if they weren't going to stop looking at her than she was going to stop looking at them.

"But you weren't too late," Harry said, and Buffy couldn't help but look at him when he refuted her words. "Besides me, everyone made it out in time."

"If you hadn't told Dobby to warn us, I'm sure everything could've been a lot worse," Luna said in her gentle voice.

"If it weren't for you, we could've all gotten expelled. You do realize that, don't you?" Hermione pointed out.

It didn't feel right. They were giving her too much credit for what little she actually did.

"Look, I didn't do anything, honestly. It was all Dobby. He took the risk in warning you guys. He's the one for the credit."

"How did you know Umbridge was going to look for us?" Ron asked the inevitable question. It wasn't accusatory or cold; it was simple and probably in the back of everybody's mind.

"I didn't. Not exactly," she replied knowing that no harm was meant by his query. "Someone told me not to be roaming around the seventh floor corridor that night and, even though it took me a while, I figured it out."

"Who told you?" Hermione asked.

"I can't say," she replied instantly.

"It was Malfoy, wasn't it?" Harry asked, and Buffy didn't like the harsh tone in his voice. Her back stiffened and her stare became hard at once. And they all noticed it.

"I figured something big was going down, so I took a shot in the dark and managed a bull's eye," she said stoically. "Even though the majority left unscathed, I'm sorry I wasn't able to get Dobby there in time to prevent Umbridge from finding anything out at all."

Harry's feelings immediately turned from bitter to apologetic.

"Buffy, I-"

"Hey," Ginny said smiling, walking in from the portrait hole, and her cheerful grin turned flat when she sensed the tension. "Am I missing something?"

Buffy continued to stare at Harry a bit longer before turning to Ginny.

"Nothing major. I'll fill you in upstairs," she said, her voice now back to normal. She then turned to Luna, "If you're still interested on that stuff I told you about, invitation is still open."

Luna didn't say anything but followed Buffy and Ginny up the stairs.

There was a strange feeling now, the kind people used to get when it was Ron who had caused Buffy's bad mood; what a strange twist it was to have Harry be the culprit now.

"That went from good to bad in an impressively short time," Fred said.

"We've learned that Malfoy's sort of a sensitive spot for Buffy. We don't know how she'll react if we ever bring him up, so we never do," Neville informed them.

"Seems she reacted badly this time around."

"Malfoy had to have been the one who told her. Who else would have?" Hermione asked as her constant inquisitive mind still churned.

George shrugged, "Who knows, he probably did, but let's look at the big picture here, shall we?"

"Which is?"

"Malfoy warned Buffy, and Buffy went around and told Dobby to warn us. If that doesn't tell you whose side she's on, I don't know what will."

And there was the bare fact. The undisputable evidence. While to some, it was that final latch that secured their trust in their otherwise wavering belief in Buffy, to others, it was an earth-shattering revelation in which they were left in a strange purgatory where they could no longer deny the future while still partly reaching for the familiarity of the past.

"Guess that puts a rest to your suspicions doesn't it, Ron?" Fred asked, but there was no response. "Ron?"

They all turned to him but Ron didn't say anything. He stood up quietly with an engrossed expression on his face and went upstairs.

"Poor bloke, I think his whole world has just been turned upside down."

* * *

For Pansy Parkinson, nothing, absolutely nothing, was going right. Draco rarely spoke to her or even looked in her direction anymore. Buffy was still around, reeling even more people into her sweet, innocent, bubbly act. Her grades were dipping drastically. Her studying was nearly non-existent which means she would most likely not pass her O.W.L.s. She spent the majority of her days planning schemes to rid this place of Buffy and every one of them fell flat. It was all Buffy's fault. If she weren't here, Pansy would've devoted more time to her studying, Draco would still like (put up with) her, and she wouldn't be scheming at all. Ugh! DAMN THAT STUPID BUFFY SUMMERS!

"I'm afraid her head will explode one of these days."

"I don't think I've ever seen her think this hard before."

"She'll get frown lines if she keeps this up."

Millicent, Tracey and Daphne all stared at Pansy, their for-some-odd-reason leader. They were sitting around the common room, waiting like they usually did for whatever Pansy had planned on her continuing revenge on Buffy.

"I'm starting to think she's run out of ideas," said Daphne.

"That spider she put on Buffy's books during History of Magic last week didn't even make Summers yelp. She just threw it off," Millicent said. "Hard to believe it took Pansy almost a week to think that one up."

"Then there was the one where she tried to turn Buffy's hair green," Daphne said.

"And then have the potion blow up in her face when she tried to make it," Tracey said, sighing in disappointment, "Pansy never really was that good at potions."

"That spell she had done on Buffy's broom was a good one. Even though Summers walked away from it with no broken bones, it did cause Umbridge to take away her flying privileges," Millicent reminded them of Pansy's one semi-achievement.

"Yeah, I guess that one does count," Daphne said.

Tracey abruptly began to giggle and caught the attention of the other two.

"What's got you in fits?" asked Daphne.

"I like the one where she ignored Buffy for a whole day thinking it would rile her up." Tracey giggled again. "Only to find out Buffy never even realized she had done it!"

"I remember that," Daphne said giving a wide smile. "Summers just went about her day completely unaware of what was going on."

"Pansy was really furious at that one. She refused to speak to anybody at all the next day," Millicent grinned at the memory.

By the end of it, all of Pansy's ideas were more irritants than acts of vengeance. She was all attitude and no bite, always had been, that was why in their first year at Hogwarts, Buffy, with her cleverness, quick words, and talent for calculating cruelty, was the default leader while Pansy was left to trail in jealousy. When Buffy left school, Pansy believed her luck had changed and had grabbed that slight of chance to reign and be the new queen of Slytherin, but Pansy didn't so much reign as she bossed, taunted and stuck to Draco like glue. She never had the abilities to be Slytherin Queen and when the time came to match up to the title, it was no wonder why all her planning was falling flat.

There was a soft groaning sound as the door to the common room opened. Pansy's constant curious eyes shifted to the new arrival and when she spotted Theodore coming in, she snapped out of her grumbling and ran right over.

"Theodore!" she called out, but he kept walking, ignoring her like any normal person would do. "Theodore! Theodore, wait!" She persisted like she normally did.

Theodore eventually stopped and took a deep breath before turning back.

"What do you want, Pansy?" he asked in that same annoyed, bored tone most people had when speaking to Pansy Parkinson.

"I just want to tell you that dumping Summers was probably the smartest thing you could've done," she said, sounding as though she had just congratulated him for passing his exams with flying colors, "and if you ever need anything at all, don't hesitate to ask for my help."

"Yeah thanks," he mumbled uninterested.

He began to walk away and Pansy, undeterred, followed.

"Really, if you ever need to talk, about anything, anything at all I'm right here."

"Sure."

"Really, I'm not just saying that. I've heard breakups can be hard sometimes, so if you ever need to talk someone's ear off and let it all out I'm the first person for just that."

"Whatever."

"Really, I don't mind. I'm sure you've got a lot of pent-up anger. Buffy does cause that in people. I mean, that was the reason you dumped her wasn't it? She did do something so terribly wrong right? Probably went around behind your back with other boys, she would do something like that. Or she was keeping this big secret from you. Keeping secrets is so appalling, don't you think?" She waited for a response, but Theodore didn't reply. You would think that shut her up. "Well, whatever it is, I'm sure if you told me about whatever she did, it would make you feel better."

Theodore stopped so suddenly that Pansy crashed into his back. So that's what all this was about. If tact was a word she understood, Pansy would've probably gotten a smidgen of what she was looking for . . . but it was very unlikely.

Slowly, Theodore turned around, leaned in real close and with mad eyes, he said, "Go. Away. And leave. Me. Alone."

Pansy shrunk back and whimpered as he walked away. She had never seen him angry before, and although Pansy was not the brightest in the bunch, she realized that making Theodore Nott angry again would probably be the last thing she would ever do.

"Guess that's back to square one," Daphne said behind her.

* * *

Harry had been anxious the whole day. Not only was he going be breaking into Umbridge's office, this would also the first day Harry was going to face Snape after being kicked out of his Occlumency lessons for peering into some of his most private, forbidden memories. Harry might as well run around naked and jump off the Astronomy Tower seeing as he would be going head to head with his fears today.

Turns out Snape had taken on the Vernon Dursley method of dealing with Harry during Potions, meaning he refused to acknowledge his existence at all. At least until the end of class when he sneered and gladly failed Harry when his potion was 'accidentally' dropped on the floor by Malfoy and therefore void. He had become so riled up about it that when he got to Divination class, Ron had to remind him that it was his turn to meet McGonagall for career advice.

That meeting did not go very well. Why? Because Umbridge had invited herself to the little conference and that should sum up the events pretty nicely.

Harry wanted to be an Auror. That was it. No room for argument. McGonagall supported him through and through, and Umbridge . . . well, there's no real surprise as to what Umbridge thought about it. What was surprising to Harry was how vehemently McGonagall stood by his decision to the infuriated Dolores Umbridge.

"Potter, I will assist you to become an Auror if it is the last thing I do! If I have to coach you nightly, I will make sure you achieve the required results!" Minerva said zealously.

A few more traded words, including Umbridge still accusing her of trying to take over the Ministry with Dumbledore, and Harry was finally dismissed. Once outside, he rested against the wall, closed his eyes and gave a loud sigh.

"With you looking like that, should I be worried about my meeting?"

Buffy in her school uniform was still a strange sight to see. Maybe because he had gone nearly three years without seeing her in it or maybe because, as nice as she looked in it, it didn't quite fit her personality. Either way, when Harry opened his eyes and saw her standing there, he took a second to comprehend her image before replying.

"Umbridge is in there," he said.

Cue eye rolling, shoulder sagging, and all in all displeasure.

"Sad I'm so not surprised," she said. "Please don't tell me it'll just be me and her?"

"No, McGonagall is in there, too."

"Oh, good, at least there's a buffer zone."

"I wouldn't say that exactly. They were going at each other's throats last I left them."

McGonagall vs. Umbridge? "Oh, that's just bad."

Harry nodded.

Buffy took a deep breath and straightened her posture like a good little soldier.

"All right, wish me luck," she said and marched on.

Harry grabbed her arm just as she placed a hand on the doorknob.

"Buffy, about Malfoy . . . " he began to say, and Buffy knew what the end of that sentence would be.

"I know you didn't mean anything by it," she said, now facing him. "I overreacted, which I tend to do sometimes, especially when it comes to Draco."

He smiled at her admission.

"That's what Neville said."

"Neville was right," she confirmed adding a light shrug. "It's . . . well . . . it's kinda hard to explain, but when it comes to Draco I've been to known to be overprotective which makes me switch to 'grrr' mode without even realizing it."

Harry had to force the hand around her arm to remain still while a burning sting went through his chest. She was overprotective of Malfoy. Did she really have to care so much for the git? What did he ever do that was so special?

"So, I'm sorry for giving you the death glare and acting all snippy," she continued not noticing Harry's reactions.

He gave a quick smile and a short nod. More water passed under the bridge.

Buffy smiled and turned her face forward again. She knocked on the door, and when she was given the all-clear to go in, she released herself from Harry's hand and walked into the room.

The moment the door closed, Harry closed his eyes and sighed again.

"You're losing your mind, Harry, that's all," he muttered to himself and walked off.

If tension was a physical object, Buffy was sure the moment she came into the office, she would've crashed smack dab into it.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall. Professor Umbridge," she greeted them, smiling. It was a funny thing, Umbridge knew how to deal with Buffy's rudeness but she flustered at the niceness, something Buffy knew very well, which was why Umbridge didn't respond and only glared.

"Hello, Ms. Summers," McGonagall greeted her. "Please take a seat."

Buffy heard the scratch, scratch, scratch of Umbridge's quill taking notes behind her as she sat down.

"Well, Ms. Summers, as you are aware, this meeting is to discuss any career paths you may have chosen to take and see what subjects you should be advised in continuing during your sixth and seventh years. Have you given any thought to what you would like to do after Hogwarts?"

The scratch, scratch, scratching stopped; seemingly waiting for Buffy to respond.

"Actually . . . " Buffy started to say, stretching out the silence in thought but mainly to annoy. "I haven't really thought about it . . . that much."

Behind her, Umbridge give a smug little giggle and in front of her, McGonagall furrowed her brow.

"You haven't thought about it?" Professor McGonagall asked incredulously. Surely with Buffy's slayer abilities, the natural path would be to become an Auror.

"Well, no, I mean, yeah, I've _thought_ about it, but nothing really seems to stand out. Career wise."

"Ms. Summers, with your marks and abilities, I'm sure you'd be able to find a suitable career," she said. "Something in the Ministry, perhaps?"

A little cough sounded but was promptly ignored.

"Honestly, Professor, with the way things are going, working at the Ministry doesn't seem like the best place to be."

The cough sounded again, a little louder this time.

"It does seem to have its disadvantages lately," the Professor said, and sure enough there was another more annoyed cough. "But it is, of course, still two years into the future and many wonderful opportunities are available. I'm sure you'd be able to find something that suits you. An Auror, perhaps?"

The coughing was growing louder to the point that Buffy was surprised Umbridge hadn't popped a vocal chord yet.

"An Auror . . . " she said, giving it some thought. "There's a fair amount of activeness involved. Definitely don't want a desk job. Not to mention the thrill of extinguishing evil things like creatures, wizards-"

COUGH! COUGH!

"Witches," Buffy continued with a smile. "You know, given all the other choices, that doesn't sound-"

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, dear," Umbridge spoke up, not wanting to take being ignored anymore. "But Minerva, I'm afraid we've had this discussion before."

"Have we?" McGonagall asked irritated.

"Yes, about Harry Potter, dear."

The annoyance bubbled up again.

"Well, as you can see, Dolores, Ms. Summers is not Harry Potter."

"But I would hate-" Liar. "-for you to give another student such false hope in trying to achieve a career they have no possibility in obtaining."

"Is that so, Dolores," McGonagall said.

"As a matter of fact, given her temperament and manners, I don't believe Ms. Summers is suitable for any job in the Ministry," she said sweetly, because she just wanted to be oh so helpful. But you know what was so helpful? An ice pick.

Buffy really hated it when people talked about her like she wasn't there. Before entering the office, Buffy knew that the only way of making it through a meeting that included Umbridge was too promptly ignore her, and she was going to, really, at least until she pulled the bitch card and all bets were off. Buffy made eye contact with McGonagall, giving a silent signal that she wanted to handle this herself, and McGonagall, knowing how much a spitfire the girl could be, sat back a little and relaxed.

"But I never said I was going to be an Auror," Buffy told Umbridge. "Or enlist into any part of the Ministry. As a matter of fact I might not even get job that has anything to do with the wizarding community."

Umbridge's eyebrows rose. "But where else is there to go?"

"Out into the rest of the world," she replied, speaking to her as if she were a chimp.

Umbridge looked as if she had just tasted something bitter. "Surely you don't mean working amongst . . . _muggles_?"

"Why not? I could be a teacher or an aerobics instructor. Marry Johnny Depp and live a happy little existence in Hollywood obscurity. Sounds all good to me."

"But Muggles are brainless, barbaric-"

"Oh, I don't know, they seem okay to me. They've managed to stick around this long," she said happily. "I mean, they can fly from place to place without the use of magic. They've managed to invent this little thing called a telephone where they can talk to another person halfway around the world in less than thirty seconds. Cook an entire meal in less than ten minutes. Muggles have even managed to put a man on the moon."

"That's still debatable," mumbled McGonagall, and if Buffy heard it, she didn't say a word.

"They invented cars, television, food preservation, Mickey Mouse, all with no use of magic what-so-ever. The way I see it Muggles have done pretty well for themselves."

Umbridge's face had gone absolutely red. The audacity of the girl. Of course she would side with those _Muggles_.

"They are lowbrow, dirty creatures who-"

"Are people just like you and me."

"I am not people!"she exclaimed offended, and so quick to disassociate herself with Muggles that once she realized what she had said the heat on her face glowed even more.

"Of course, whatever you say, Professor," Buffy nodded adding a pleasant smile. She turned back to Professor McGonagall, who had her own little amused grin. "Thanks for your advice, but right now, the only future I'm looking forward to is one that involves me on a beach holding a coconut drink with a little umbrella in it." McGonagall nodded a little nod, just now realizing that maybe Buffy was the kind of a person who lived for the moment. "May I go?" Buffy asked, and McGonagall nodded again as the girl did earn her exit.

Buffy rose from her seat and gave a purple-faced, squinty-eyed Umbridge a brilliant smile right as she passed by and then left the room.

"Ready for the next student, Dolores?" asked a pleased McGonagall.

All day, and with every chance she got, Hermione had tried to convince Harry out of the whole mad idea of using Umbridge's fireplace to talk to Sirius. _Dumbledore sacrificed himself to keep you in school, Harry! And if you get thrown out today, it will all have been for nothing!_, while Ron on the other hand was full of the 'do what you gotta do' attitude but definitely on his side, _Give it a rest, okay? He can make up his own mind_, he had told Hermione. And Harry had made up his mind, he was going to talk to Sirius, that was that, which was why he was currently rushing to the corridor that led to Umbridge's office after she had dashed out when the unmistakable sound of whatever was George and Fred's distraction had gone off. He donned the Invisibility Cloak and with the knife Sirius had given him in his bag, he marched on. And what a curious sight it was to find that Buffy was waiting just outside of Umridge's office, resting her back on the wall just aside the door. As quietly as he could and as he quickly as he could, Harry continued down the corridor.

"Even if you tiptoe past me, I'm still gonna know you're there when you open the door, you know," she said just as he reached the office.

He turned to face her with an irritated expression on his face that she couldn't see or could she . . . ?

"It still creeps me out when you do that," he said.

"Well, maybe you should learn to breathe less loudly and maybe I won't notice."

"I don't-!" he began, but what was the use, he had little time to spare. "What are you doing out here?"

"I'm lookout," she said, straightening up. "Someone's gotta watch your back while you're conversing through Umbridge's fireplace. When taking a dangerous risk, it's like a 'duh thing' to have."

"A 'duh thing'?"

"It's like common sense. Surprised no one thought of it. As soon as Fred and George told me what you were planning to do-"

"They told you! It was supposed to be a secret!"

She rolled her eyes at his quick temper. "It is a secret, do you see anybody else out here?"

Harry paused and reeled back his temper. "Why'd they tell you?"

"Because they wanted to make sure you'd be able to go through with your plan, and as I have a knack for indiscretion," unless it involves people finding out about her slayerness which is a whole different story, "they ran it by me to secure any loopholes. Hence my being here."

Harry resigned his ire. Fine, if she was going to be sensible about it. Buffy was looking at him expectantly, straight at his invisible face, and it was starting to freak him out again.

"Stop doing that," he said, and she smiled at his discomfiture.

"Don't take too long. Just in and out," she instructed. "I'll come get you at the first sign of trouble, so don't close the door behind you, 'cause it'll lock and you'll be screwed."

Harry took out the magic knife and inserted the blade into the crack around Umbridge's door, moved it gently up and down, then withdrew it. There was a tiny click, and the door swung open. He ducked inside the office and placed the knife in-between the door and the doorway behind him.

Buffy leaned back against the wall and waited. When she decided to take charge of looking over Harry for the Order, this was so not what she had in mind. God help the girl that ends up with him, she's definitely gonna need all the help she can get.

Harry now uncloaked and nervous stuck his head into the fireplace. He tossed Floo powder into the logs beneath him and at once the flames turned green.

"Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!" Harry said loudly and clearly.

It was one of the most curious sensations he had ever experienced. He had traveled by Floo powder before, of course, but then it had been his entire body that had spun around and around in the flames through the network of wizarding fireplaces that stretched over the country. This time, his knees remained firm upon the cold floor of Umbridge's office, and only his head hurtled through the emerald fire...

And then, as abruptly as it had begun, the spinning stopped. Feeling rather sick and as though he were wearing an exceptionally hot muffler around his head, Harry opened his eyes to find that he was looking up out of the kitchen fireplace at the long, wooden table, where a man sat poring over a piece of parchment.

"Sirius?"

The man jumped and looked around. It was not Sirius, but Lupin.

"Harry!" he said, looking thoroughly shocked. "What are you - what's happened, is everything all right?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "I just wondered — I mean, I just fancied a - a chat with Sirius."

"I'll call him," said Lupin, getting to his feet, still looking perplexed, "he went upstairs to look for Kreacher, he seems to be hiding in the attic again..."

And Harry saw Lupin hurry out of the kitchen. Now he was left with nothing to look at but the chair and table legs. He wondered why Sirius had never mentioned how very uncomfortable it was to speak out of the fire; his knees were already objecting painfully to their prolonged contact with Umbridge's hard stone floor.

Lupin returned with Sirius at his heels moments later.

"What is it?" said Sirius urgently, sweeping his long dark hair out of his eyes and dropping to the ground in front of the fire, so that he and Harry were on a level. Lupin knelt down too, looking very concerned. "Are you all right? Do you need help?"

"No," said Harry, "it's nothing like that...I just wanted to talk...about my dad..."

If Buffy had ever decided to pick up smoking, which she never would 'cause 'ew', she'd be puffing one out right about now. She hated waiting, especially if the waiting led to no action. Harry had already been there over ten minutes. What was he doing? Asking for the life story?

As it turns out, it wasn't exactly the life story but it was the long version of the school politics and rivalries between the Marauders and Lily and Snape, culminating in the very simple . . .

"Look," Sirius said, "your father was the best friend I ever had and he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it."

"Yeah, okay," said Harry heavily. "I just never thought I'd feel sorry for Snape."

"Now you mention it," said Lupin, a faint crease between his eyebrows, "how did Snape react when he found you'd seen all this?"

"He told me he'd never teach me Occlumency again," said Harry indifferently, "like that's a big

disappoint—"

"He WHAT?" shouted Sirius, causing Harry to jump and inhale a mouthful of ashes.

"Are you serious, Harry?" said Lupin quickly. "He's stopped giving you lessons?"

"Yeah," said Harry, surprised at what he considered a great over-reaction. "But it's okay, I don't care, it's a bit of a relief to tell you the -"

"I'm coming up there to have a word with Snape!" said Sirius forcefully, and he actually made to stand up, but Lupin wrenched him back down again.

"If anyone's going to tell Snape, it will be me!" he said firmly. "But Harry, first of all, you're to go back to Snape and tell him that on no account is he to stop giving you lessons — when Dumbledore hears -"

"I can't tell him that, he'd kill me!" said Harry, outraged. "You didn't see him when we got out of the Pensieve."

"Harry, there is nothing so important as you learning Occlumency!" said Lupin sternly. "Do you understand me? Nothing!"

"Okay, okay," said Harry, thoroughly discomposed, not to mention annoyed. "I'll . . . I'll try and say something to him . . . but it won't be-"

He fell silent. He felt something by his knees.

"What is it?" Sirius asked, worried.

Before he could respond another face had popped by Harry's.

"Hey," Buffy said to Harry and then turned to Remus and Sirius. "Ben. Jerry," she greeted respectively.

"Mrs. Butterworth," Remus said smiling.

"Long time no see," Sirius said..

"Oh, you know, been busy. School. Friends. Breaking the rules. Raising hell."

"That's my girl," he grinned.

She looked at Harry again. "We gotta go." And then back to the other two. "Tell mom I said hi."

Sirius gave a little salute that caused both teenagers to smile.

"Be careful," Remus said.

"Always," Buffy replied cheekily.

"Liar," Sirius rebutted.

She give a brash grin and both she and Harry disappeared from sight.

"They make quite the pair, don't they," said Remus.

Sirius nodded and tacked on a quick, "Don't let 'em ever hear you say that."

When Buffy and Harry pulled their heads back, it felt as if the world was spinning, which was not very good for the stomach.

"Quickly, quickly!" a wheezy voice muttered right outside the office door. "Ah, she's left it open -"

Harry dived for the Invisibility Cloak and had just managed to pull it back over him and Buffy when Filch burst into the office. He looked absolutely delighted about something and was talking to himself feverishly as he crossed the room, pulled open a drawer in Umbridge's desk and began rifling through the papers inside it.

"Approval for Whipping . . . Approval for Whipping . . . I can do it at last . . . they've had it coming to them for years . . . "

He pulled out a piece of parchment, kissed it, then shuffled rapidly back out of the door, clutching it to his chest.

"It's probably safe now," Buffy said once they were alone.

"Don't wanna take the chance," Harry responded. "Come on."

Huddled together, they walked out of the office and while passing the open door...

"You left it open?" Harry asked.

"I thought I closed it, how was I supposed to know it doesn't close all the way by itself. It's wood, it's supposed to go with gravity," she said, and handed him his knife. "Here."

At least she managed to not leave that behind. He took it and stuffed it into his bag while Buffy held the Cloak over their heads.

"So how'd it go?" she asked him.

"Good, I would've liked to ask more but it can wait for a better time," he said.

They walked in silence a bit more until a question popped into Harry's head.

"Mrs. Butterworth?" he asked her.

She immediately smiled. "I drown my pancakes in Mrs. Butterworth's maple syrup."

"Don't think I've ever tried it."

"Most likely not, but you should. Goes with pancakes, waffles, french toast. The whole breakfast family. Got Remus and Sirius hooked on it. We go through bottles like nobody's business."

The warm tone in her voice made it sound like Mrs. Butterworth's was a must-try, and Harry held out hope that one day, he would be able to try it with Sirius, Remus and Buffy around the breakfast table.

"So," Harry started, about to ask his most curious question. "What exactly are Fred and George up to?"

And Buffy only gave a coltish grin.

One landing down from Umbridge's office, Harry thought it was safe for them to become visible again. He pulled off the Cloak and shoved it in his bag.

"You know, it felt kinda weird being on the inside of that thing," said Buffy. "Bet a girl could stir up a lot of trouble having one of those."

"You're right, a girl probably could," he said. "But I wouldn't want to know what you'd do with it."

There was a great deal of shouting and movement coming from the Entrance Hall. They ran down the marble staircase and found what looked like most of the school assembled there.

It was just like the night when Trelawney had been sacked. Students were standing all around the walls in a great ring (some of them, Harry noticed, covered in a substance that looked very much like Stinksap); teachers and ghosts were also in the crowd. Prominent among the onlookers were members of the Inquisitorial Squad, who were all looking exceptionally pleased with themselves, and Peeves, who was bobbing overhead, gazed down at Fred and George who stood in the middle of the floor with the unmistakable look of two people who had just been cornered.

"So!" said Umbridge triumphantly. "So - you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?"

"Pretty amusing, yeah," said Fred, looking up at her without the slightest sign of fear. Filch elbowed his way closer to Umbridge, almost crying with happiness.

"I've got the form, Headmistress," he said hoarsely, waving the piece of parchment he had taken from her desk. "I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting...oh, let me do it now..."

"Very good, Argus," she said. "You two," she went on, gazing at Fred and George, "are

about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school."

"You know what?" said Fred. "I don't think we are." He turned to his twin. "George, I think we've outgrown full-time education."

"Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself," said George lightly.

"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?" asked Fred.

"Definitely," said George.

And before Umbridge could say a word, they raised their wands and said together: "Accio brooms!"

Harry heard a loud crash somewhere in the distance. Looking to his left, he and Buffy ducked just in time. Fred and George's broomsticks, one still trailing the heavy chain and iron peg with which Umbridge had fastened them to the wall, were hurtling along the corridor towards their owners; they turned left, streaked down the stairs and stopped sharply in front of the twins, the chain clattering loudly on the flagged stone floor.

"We won't be seeing you," Fred told Professor Umbridge, swinging his leg over his broomstick.

"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch," said George, mounting his own.

Fred looked around at the assembled students, at the silent, watchful crowd.

"If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley - Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes," he said in a loud voice. "Our new premises!"

"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat," added George, pointing at Professor Umbridge.

"STOP THEM!" shrieked Umbridge, but it was too late. As the Inquisitorial Squad closed in,

Fred and George kicked off from the floor.

They swirled overhead before George swooped down and muttered a quick message to Buffy.

"Don't think we've forgotten bout you," he said devilishly. "Sometimes Christmas comes early."

He flew back up shooting fifteen feet into the air to join Fred who looked across the hall at the poltergeist bobbing on his level above the crowd.

"Give her hell from us, Peeves."

And Peeves, who Harry had never seen take an order from a student before, swept his belled hat from his head and sprang to a salute as Fred and George wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset.

* * *

Note: Faster update, yay! Thanks again for my reviewer for their very lovely help :) And thanks to the reviews and readers who continue to stick by this too long of a story that I still enjoy writing :) And before it's mentioned, I know it's been lagging a little on the excitement but don't worry I got juicy stuff in the works ;)

Oh! How freakin' awesome is that new HP7 trailer that I've seen about fifty times! Freakin' amazing in its Pottery form! I'm so super excited for that day I might just watch it sixty more times by the time the day is over :)

On a calmer side note, what are the chances that some of you out there are good with video editing cause I lack serious computer skills and I would love to see an HP5 trailer with Buffy in there somewhere. Come one, who hasn't be curious to see the OotP trailer with Buffy walking about...you know you want to...


	62. Chapter 62

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

There was a box waiting for Buffy when she entered her room after the Twins' great escape. It was large and gold with a note attached: _Two down_. She removed the lid and a wide smile soon spread over her lips. Christmas had, in fact, come early.

Fred and George made sure no one would forget them anytime soon.

The swamp that had filled the corridor on the fifth floor of the east wing was still in the fifth floor corridor of the east wing, and Umbridge and Filch had been observed trying to remove it but without success. McGonagall or Flitwick could have removed the swamp in an instant but, just as in the case of Fred and George's Wildfire Whiz-bangs, they seemed to prefer watching Umbridge struggle. Two large broom-shaped holes in Umbridge's office door, in which Fred and George's Cleansweeps had smashed through, had caused Filch to fit a new office door and remove Harry's Firebolt to the dungeons where, it was rumored, Umbridge had set an armed security troll to guard it. However, her troubles were far from over.

Inspired by Fred and George, a great number of students were now vying for the newly vacant positions of Troublemakers-in-Chief. In spite of the new door, somebody managed to slip a hairy-snouted Niffler into Umbridge's office, which had torn the place apart in search of shiny objects and had even leapt on Umbridge trying to gnaw the rings off her stubby fingers. Dungbombs and Stink Pellets were dropped so frequently in the corridors that it became the new fashion to perform Bubble-Head Charms on oneself before leaving lessons.

It had also become clear just how many Skiving Snackboxes Fred and George had managed to sell before they left. Umbridge only had to enter her classroom for the students assembled there to faint, vomit, develop dangerous fevers or else spout blood from both nostrils. Shrieking with rage and frustration, she attempted to trace the mysterious symptoms to their source, but the students told her stubbornly they were suffering from 'Umbridge -itis'. After putting four successive classes in detention and failing to discover their secret, she was forced to give up and allow the bleeding, swooning, sweating and vomiting students to leave her classes in droves.

But not even the users of the Snackboxes could compete with that master of chaos, Peeves, who seemed to have taken Fred's parting words deeply to heart. Cackling madly, he soared through the school, upending tables, bursting out of blackboards, toppling statues and vases; twice he shut Mrs. Norris inside a suit of armor, from which she was rescued, yowling loudly, by the furious caretaker. Peeves smashed lanterns and snuffed out candles, juggled burning torches over the heads of screaming students, caused neatly stacked piles of parchment to topple into fires or out of windows; flooded the second floor when he pulled off all the taps in the bathrooms, dropped a bag of tarantulas in the middle of the Great Hall during breakfast and, whenever he fancied a break, spent hours at a time floating along after Umbridge and blowing loud raspberries every time she spoke.

And none of the staff but Filch seemed to be stirring themselves to help her.

"I'm surprised you haven't tried anything," Susie said to Buffy, her eyes unmoving from their hands.

"The only thing I can do now is sit back," she said, her lips pressing together quickly in concentration.

"Seeing as everybody else has taken it upon themselves to torture Umbridge," Ginny said.

"No reason for Buffy to even lift a finger," Neville added.

"Eeexxaaactlllllyyy," Buffy said, her eyes focused and concentrating on her defense.

With every move she made, Susie was right on her tail. She may be smaller but Susie was also agile, quick and clever to a-

"Gotcha!"

- win apparently.

Buffy let her thumb go limp as Susie counted – 1, 2, 3!

"Don't pout, you're the one who wanted to play," she said.

"I'm not pouting," Buffy replied.

"Tell that to your bottom lip."

Buffy pulled in her bottom lip and stuck out her tongue instead.

"Your face is going to stay that way if you keep it up," Susie chided.

"Better to eat ice cream with."

A first year reprimanding a fifth year, yep, that was just the way it worked in Buffy's world . . . where large half-giants waved her over from the edge of the woods.

"'Scuse me," she said, and stood up from the grass.

"Another secret meeting with Hagrid?" Ginny asked, eyebrows raised.

"Don't make it sound like that; it's creepy."

"If you told us what the secret was, maybe I won't ever make it sound like it was creepy."

"Nice try, but you know too many of my secrets as it is."

"I don't," said Susie.

"And that's why you're my favorite," she said giving a wink.

Susie beamed brightly. "See that, I'm the favorite."

Ginny childishly rolled her eyes and grabbed the little girl's hand.

"All right, my turn," she said, and her eyes focused on the challenge up ahead. "One, two, three, four, I declare a thumb war!"

The closer Buffy got to Hagrid, the more she reminded herself to hold her tongue about his secret dealings with his giant. Despite the many fresh bruises and cuts to his face.

"I need yeh ter come with me," he said.

"Figured as much," she said with a nod, knowing what he had planned.

"Don't got anythin' planned fer the rest o' the day, do yeh?"

"Just the usual lazing but I can put that off for a more productive day. Whatcha got in mind?"

He looked around. "Follow me."

And she did, into the deep dark forest where the creatures roamed free and no sun passed through all day.

"He's been gettin' better," he said, a few steps into the silent grove. "But he still gets a bit rough sometimes."

"I figured with the increasing marring of your face and all," she commented, and a slight grimace appeared on his face that made Buffy quickly want to move on to another topic; extra bonus if its an apologetic one. "Sorry I haven't been able to stop by and help lately."

The grimace disappeared. He wasn't up to his chipper self but he was in better spirits.

"No, no, 's alright. Yeh shouldn't be sorry. I know yeh've been busy with yer friends an' tha's great, an' yeh should be busy with yer friends. I jus' want ter thank yeh fer helpin' out as much as yeh have."

"It's not a big. When it comes to taming wild beasts, I'm happy to help."

He paused for a moment and the atmosphere changed.

"I'm jus' afraid nobody will be around to help much longer."

"Sure there will. You'll always be here." He didn't confirm anything, and her eyebrows furrowed. "Hagrid? You will be here, won't you?"

Hagrid swallowed past the large lump in his throat.

"Tha' . . . tha' Umbridge woman might have me sacked any day now. I can feel it."

"Hagrid, no, I'm sure-"

"There's no need fer tha'. I know I'm gettin' sacked. What with Dumbledore bein' gone, there's no reason fer Umbridge not to sack the entire school if she wanted ter. Especially those o' us who've always stood by Dumbledore's side."

He was right. Buffy was surprised so many were still hanging around at all. As long as Umbridge remained Headmistress, the firing of the majority of the staff was inevitable.

They walked silently for the rest of the way until they arrived at the small, rough, giant-made clearing.

"He's asleep," she said, once she spotted Grawp, and Hagrid nodded. "Okay, so, not to be rude and all, but I don't understand exactly what I'm here for then?" Seeing as she was usually called to duty when the giant was getting out of hand. "'Cause I don't really fancy changing his diapers."

"No, no. None o' tha'," he said shaking his head. "I wanted to talk to yeh about summat."

"And not that I mind the distance, but why here exactly?"

"'Cause Grawpy here hasn't seen yeh fer a while. He's been askin' about yeh, yeh know."

"Asking? Like with actual words?"

"No, not as such. See right down there."

He pointed a large finger to a shaggy object near Grawp.

"What? The mop with the yellow yarn things?"

"Tha's yeh."

"Me?" she exclaimed, vanity coming to the forefront, but then she tampered it down and let her brains and sense come forward. "Oh, I get it, the hair right?"

Hagrid nodded. "He's always wavin' it around my face like a mad person. Knocked me on the head a couple o' times. Took me a while to figure what he was tryin' ter say."

"It's actually kind of cute. In a primitive sense." Flattering even, in a very sweet way. "So what did you need to ask me?"

Again the sadness made its appearance.

"Well, like I was sayin' befer, I might not be around much longer," he said, a slight sniffle coming through his nose. "I was hopin' yeh could visit Grawp here while I'm gone. Just check in on him, yeh know. So he don' feel lonely."

"Sure, Hagrid, of course I will."

"Good. Good," he said, smiling happily. "I was goin' to ask Harry, Ron an' Hermione to look in on him too. Seein' as I know yeh can' be comin' in here all the time."

Oh, that could be problematic.

"Hagrid, you're not going to tell them that I'll be visiting him too, right?"

"Course I was," he replied instantly, but second-guessed it from the bothered look on her face. "Why? Don' think I should?"

She shook her head. "You know them, they'll start asking questions and they'll want to know things; things I don't want them to know."

"Oh, yeh mean the slayer thing," he whispered, that wasn't much of a whisper.

"Yes," she said, unable to quell her smile.

"Guess tha' could be a problem." He scratched the side of his head with one finger as he thought about it. "In tha' case, I won' say a word. Yeh can count on me."

A 'thanks' was ready on her lips when the ground gently began to move. They both turned to Grawp, who was now slowly rising.

"Baby's awake," Buffy said.

The misshaped giant stretched its arms and legs and rubbed his muddy-green colored eyes. Its yellow teeth showed as he yawned and let out a wakening roar. He looked around quizzically like a toddler who had just woken up and a big grin came to his face when he spotted Buffy. He trotted over with surprising agility and gently picked her up in between his thumb and forefinger.

"Is he gonna do this every time?" she asked Hagrid as she hung there limply.

"Grawp! Now yeh be careful. She ain' gonna come around here again if yeh hurt her!"

But Grawp, of course, did not listen as he didn't understand what Hagrid was saying.

"How's it going there, Kong?" Buffy asked sitting cross-legged on his palm. He leaned in closely and let out a goofy laugh. His breath washed over her, and piles of fresh manure smelled better. "Oh, that's rancid," she said, coughing into the hand she had placed over her nose and mouth. "Might wanna try eating some of those pine trees to freshen up that breath." He laughed again, then squatted lower to the ground to pick up the yellow mop and waved it front of her. "Yep. Saw the mop. Very impressive," she said pleasantly and smiled. He stared at her with that goofy grin, and as nice and sweet as it was, it was starting to feel awkward. "Uh, yeah, I'd sort of like to get down now, please."

"Yeh heard her, Grawp. Put her down now. Nice an' gentle!" Hagrid ordered from below.

Grawp didn't listen and kept staring at Buffy as if waiting for her to dance.

"I don't think he's getting the message," she said. There was only one way to do this, and she didn't want to do it, but she couldn't exactly wait for him to fall asleep again, could she? She stood up, straightened her back and said firmly while pointing down, "Grawp! Down! Now!" His goofy grin turned to a sad, frightened frown that sent guilt down into her stomach, and he gently placed her back on earth. Once she regained her balance she straightened her coat.

"Solid ground. Much better." Grawp had backed away like a wounded puppy not looking at her anymore. "I think I hurt his feelings."

Hagrid shook his head, "No, I think– " Grawp laughed loudly, now enjoying himself as he flicked and pulled at the pine trees. "– he's alrigh'."

Buffy smiled widely at the sight. Grawp was nothing but a big kid.

"I should be heading back. Don't want to stay out too long or they might send a search party," she told Hagrid.

"Tha's a good idea. Thanks again fer agreein' to help me an' old Grawpy here."

"My pleasure, and don't worry, I can find the way back myself. Been roaming through this forest long enough to find a way out. You can stay here and continue watching over little brother."

He wasn't too sure about letting her wander around by herself, but Buffy did have enough experience going around the forest, especially at night when it was most dangerous.

"Alrigh'. Yeh be careful now," he said, and leaned in a little closer to elaborate. "The centaurs, yeh know."

She nodded.

"I know and I will," she assured him and turned to the giant still playing with the trees. "See you later, Grawp!" But Grawp didn't hear and laughed goofily at the needles falling from the pines like snowflakes.

Buffy walked back the way she came. She heard rustling midway through, and facing the sound, she found four centaurs, crossbows over their shoulders, watching her carefully. Talk about your overreactions. They wouldn't hurt her, she knew that much, but ever since Hagrid had saved Firenze from their ruthless beating, they'd been on serious high alert on everything that came in and out of the forest, as if Firenze was just going to walk in for another round of hoof-thumping. Careful not to seem disrespectful, as centaurs were all about respect, she looked away and continued on. There were no sounds of hooves following after.

The ragtag bunch was just as she had left them, except Ginny and Neville were the ones who were currently waging a thumb war.

"Planning on missing dinner?" she asked, arriving beside them.

"We got time," Ginny replied, her eyes on Neville's rapid movements.

"Yeah, four minutes is a real vacation."

"You know, you don't always have to use sarcasm," Neville said.

"Yes, I do."

Neville and Ginny gave each other that look, their 'Buffy being Buffy' look, and then continued their game.

"Come on, Suze," Buffy said, helping the girl up. "Let's go get our grub on."

Hand in hand, they walked back into the castle along with the rest of the hungry Hogwarts students. Including the annoying, rude ones.

"Hey!" Susie exclaimed as Pansy Parkinson shoved her aside to make her way through. Pansy turned around and wrinkled her arrogant nose. Not a very smart move.

Buffy switched to Susie's other side and with a firm grasp on the girl's hand, she walked on, making sure to give a hard bump to Pansy's side.

"Might wanna watch those wide hips, Parky," Buffy sneered.

Pansy watched, fuming as they walked away. Buffy's arm now around the little girl protectively. Buffy had been like a mother-hen to that girl since day one. Always looking out for her and trying to make things comfortable at Hogwarts for the puny little first year. Always going out . . . of her . . . way . . .

The light slowly grew brighter the more Pansy thought about it. Soon the idea was pulsating rapidly and a malicious grin spread across her face. Her excited eyes now watched Buffy and Susie with calculating eagerness.

* * *

It was the last match of the Quidditch season. Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw. And Ron seemed to have found new optimism.

"I mean, I can't get any worse, can I?" he told Harry and Hermione grimly over breakfast on the morning of the match. "Nothing to lose now, is there?"

"You know," said Hermione, as she and Harry walked down to the pitch a little later in the midst of a very excitable crowd, "I think Ron might do better without Fred and George around. They never exactly gave him a lot of confidence."

They caught sight of Luna Lovegood with what appeared to be a live eagle perched on top of her head.

"Oh, gosh, I forgot!" said Hermione, watching the eagle flapping its wings as Luna walked serenely past a group of cackling and pointing Slytherins. "Cho will be playing, won't she?"

Harry, who had not forgotten this, merely shrugged. Having gotten over Cho a lot faster than he though he would have.

They found seats in the topmost row of the stands. It was a fine, clear day; Ron could not wish for better, and Harry found himself hoping against hope that Ron would not give the Slytherins cause for more rousing choruses of 'Weasley is our King'.

Lee Jordan, who had been very dispirited since Fred and George had left, was commentating as usual. As the teams zoomed out on to the pitch, he named the players with something less than his usual gusto and the tone carried out when calling the game.

"Harry," said a hoarse voice in Harry's ear just as the game had begun. "Hermione . . . "

Harry looked round and saw Hagrid's enormous bearded face sticking between the seats. Apparently, he had squeezed his way all along the row behind, for the first- and second-years he had just passed had a ruffled, flattened look about them. For some reason, Hagrid was bent double as though anxious not to be seen, though he was still at least four feet taller than everybody else.

"Listen," he whispered, "can yeh come with me? Now? While ev'ryone's watchin' the match?"

"Er . . . can't it wait, Hagrid?" asked Harry. "Till the match is over?"

"No," said Hagrid. "No, Harry, it's gotta be now . . . while ev'ryone's lookin' the other way . . . please?"

Hagrid's nose was gently dripping blood. His eyes were both blackened. Harry had not seen him this close-up since his return to the school; he looked utterly woebegone.

"Course," said Harry at once, "course we'll come."

Several rows down, Buffy watched as the trio of Hagrid, Harry and Hermione walked out off the pitch. Hoping Hagrid would keep his promise and that Harry and Hermione would keep their breakfasts.

The game roared on in Gryffindor glory without them. And it was definitely Ron's game. The saves! The flying! The skills he had been hiding until now! Where had this Ron Weasley been before? By the time Ginny had grabbed the Snitch from underneath Cho's nose and ended the game, the Gryffindors were already on cloud nine, and capturing that Snitch was the cherry on a very fine game.

A good time later, after the great mystery of Hagrid's bruises had been solved, Harry and Hermione were both shaken out of their wits after their encounter with Grawp. When Hagrid had finally given them leave, they rejoined the path and after another ten minutes, the trees began to thin; they were able to see patches of clear blue sky again and, in the distance, the definite sounds of cheering and shouting.

"Was that another goal?" asked Hagrid, pausing in the shelter of the trees as the Quidditch stadium came into view. "Or d'yeh reckon the match is over?"

"I don't know," said Hermione miserably. Harry saw that she looked much the worse for wear; her hair was full of twigs and leaves, her robes were ripped in several places and there were numerous scratches on her face and arms. He knew he must've looked no better.

"I reckon it's over, yeh know!" said Hagrid, still squinting towards the stadium. "Look - there's people comin' out already - if yeh two hurry, yeh'll be able ter blend in with the crowd an' no one'll know yeh weren't there!"

"Good idea," said Harry. "Well . . . see you later, then, Hagrid."

"I don't believe him," said Hermione in a very unsteady voice, the moment they were out of earshot of Hagrid. "I don't believe him. I really don't believe him."

"Calm down," said Harry.

"Calm down!" she said feverishly. "A giant! A giant in the Forest! And we're supposed to give him English lessons! Always assuming, of course, we can get past the herd of murderous centaurs on the way in and out! I - don't - believe - him!"

"We haven't got to do anything yet!" Harry tried to reassure her in a quiet voice, as they joined a stream of jabbering Hufflepuffs heading back towards the castle. "He's not asking us to do anything unless he gets chucked out and that might not even happen."

"Oh, come off it, Harry!" said Hermione angrily, stopping dead in her tracks so that the people behind had to swerve to avoid her. "Of course he's going to be chucked out and, to be perfectly honest, after what we've just seen, who can blame Umbridge?"

There was a pause in which Harry glared at her, and her eyes filled slowly with tears.

"You didn't mean that," said Harry quietly.

"No . . . well . . . all right . . . I didn't," she said, wiping her eyes angrily. "But why does he have to make life so difficult for himself - for us?"

"I dunno -"

"_Weasley is our King, Weasley is our King, He didn't let the Quaffle in, Weasley is our King . . . " _

"And I wish they'd stop singing that stupid song," said Hermione miserably, "haven't they gloated enough?"

A great tide of students was moving up the sloping lawns from the pitch.

"Oh, let's get in before we have to meet the Slytherins," said Hermione.

"_Weasley can save anything, He never leaves a single ring, That's why Gryffindors all sing, Weasley is our King." _

"Hermione . . . " said Harry slowly.

The song was growing louder, but it was issuing not from a crowd of green-and-silver-clad Slytherins, but from a mass of red and gold moving slowly towards the castle, bearing a solitary figure upon its many shoulders.

"_Weasley is our King, Weasley is our King, He didn't let the Quaffle in, Weasley is our King . . . " _

"No?" said Hermione in a hushed voice.

"YES!" said Harry loudly.

"HARRY! HERMIONE!" yelled Ron, waving the silver Quidditch cup in the air and looking quite beside himself. "WE DID IT! WE WON!"

They beamed up at him as he passed. There was a scrum at the door of the castle and Ron's head got rather badly bumped on the lintel, but nobody seemed to want to put him down. Still singing, the crowd squeezed itself into the Entrance Hall.

"Harry! Hermione! Can you believe it? _My_ brother!" Ginny exclaimed in pride and amazement passing them by along with the crowd.

"Yeah, he was . . . he was great!" Harry said after her. It wasn't a lie exactly, Ron was great, he just had yet to witness the Quidditch great.

"He really was," Buffy said, coming to walk next to Harry and Hermione along with Neville.

"I've never seen him play like that before," Neville said. "It was really amazing."

"He was definitely hiding those flying skills of his," Buffy said, and added oh-so nonchalantly. "It's a shame you guys missed it."

Hermione and Harry set their wide surprised eyes on her.

"You don't have to looked so shocked," Neville told them. "It was hard not to notice when you walked out with Hagrid."

"He isn't exactly pocket-sized. But don't worry; I don't think a lot of people were aware. Especially not Umbridge."

"How do you know?" asked Hermione.

"She was too busy watching Ron and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. First all angry and the like, and then very suspicious, seeing as it was strange how Ron pulled out moves no one had ever seen," Buffy said. "It's fun times for me whenever I get watch her get all purple-faced."

And who didn't enjoy a purple-faced Umbridge?

"Well, as long as she didn't notice," Hermione said.

The quartet followed the loud Gryffindor crowd to the tower. Everyone geared up for a celebration and to finish the ceremonial crowing of King Ronald Bilius Weasley.

Harry and Hermione waited until the next day, under the shade of a tree, to tell Ron about Grawp. And although initially angry when they told him they had missed the entire game, that anger faded to disbelief as soon as the tale of Grawp was finished.

"No," said Ron, as though by saying this he could make it untrue. "No, he can't have."

"Well, he has," said Hermione firmly. "Grawp's about sixteen feet tall, enjoys ripping up twenty-foot pine trees, and knows me," she snorted, "as Hermy."

Ron gave a nervous laugh.

"And Hagrid wants us to . . . ?"

"Teach him English, yeah," said Harry.

"He's lost his mind," said Ron in an almost awed voice.

"Yes," said Hermione irritably, turning a page of Intermediate Transfiguration. "Yes, I'm starting to think he has. But, unfortunately, he made Harry and me promise."

"Well, you're just going to have to break your promise, that's all," said Ron firmly. "I mean, come on . . . we've got exams and we're about that far -" he held up his hand to show thumb and forefinger almost touching "- from being chucked out as it is. And anyway . . . remember Norbert? Remember Aragog? Have we ever come off better for mixing with any of Hagrid's monster mates?"

"I know, it's just that - we promised," said Hermione in a small voice.

Ron smoothed his hair flat again, looking preoccupied.

"Well," he sighed, "Hagrid hasn't been sacked yet, has he? He's hung on this long, maybe he'll hang on till the end of term and we won't have to go near Grawp at all."

The castle grounds were gleaming in the sunlight as though freshly painted; the cloudless sky smiled at itself in the smoothly sparkling lake; the satin green lawns rippled occasionally in a gentle breeze. June had arrived, but to the fifth-years this meant only one thing: their OWLs were upon them at last.

It was review, review, review for every class: Transfigurations, Herbology, Astronomy, and at the present time – Potions.

Buffy's arm had been stinging since break. She could feel the snake slither and the skull pulse under her skin. She tried to ignore it, but it itched like a dozen mosquito bites and she couldn't help but subconsciously scratch every chance she got. Something that didn't go unnoticed.

It was always her left arm. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione had seen Buffy scratch the same arm constantly, but her sleeve always remained down. It appeared to be a subconscious action, seeing as every time Buffy did notice she was doing it, she would stop immediately. Why wouldn't she raise her sleeve? Wouldn't it be easier to scratch the skin when it was bare? Or maybe check what was causing it?

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, while grabbing her wrist. "You almost poured more in!"

Snapping out of her musing, Hermione quickly pulled back her arm and the danger of the bottle.

"Sorry, sorry, I wasn't thinking," she said and put the flask down.

"Are you okay? You seem distracted," Harry said.

She nodded rapidly.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. I'm just . . . so distracted by upcoming O., honestly, I don't know what I was thinking, but I'm all right now, really," she replied.

Hermione refocused once again on the potion at hand, but her eye couldn't help but wander a little to the right now and then.

It appears that the itch had returned. Same arm. Same spot. That bug seemed to have favored Buffy Summers. Snape walked around the room, observing the students as they reviewed their potion making, lingering a little longer on Buffy and Neville's cauldron– something the pair noticed but blatantly ignored. Snape's eyes were quick to Buffy as soon as he noticed her scratching, waiting to see if the sleeve would ever move just . . . a bit . . . higher . . . but to his displeasure, the cuff remained firmly at her wrist at all times. Miss Summers seemed hell-bent on keeping that sleeve right where it was, igniting Snape's suspicion even more. If possible, his frown deepened even more as he circled the room again with thoughts of Miss Summers' arm in his head before ending back up at the front to watch over his students in a stoic expression and to keep an eye on Buffy Summers without being conspicuous.

"Buffy, I think we need more nettles," Neville said, while stirring the light green potion that should be a darker color.

"I'm on it."

Buffy moved around their station and to the shelves that stocked all the fixings, and of course, what they needed would be on a high shelf well above her head. Great. She stood up on her toes and reached up, stretching her arm higher . . . and higher . . . and gravity was quick to betray her. The higher she reached, the more it caused her sleeve to slip down, and just as she touched the jar of nettles, she noticed a good portion of the slithering snake appear outside the cuff of her sleeve. And her breath caught in her throat as panic crept into her rapidly beating heart. No, no, no. Promptly grabbing hold of the container, she brought her arm back down. Maybe nobody saw, maybe nobody saw. Buffy quickly looked around to see if anybody had noticed the mark and her heart skipped a beat when her eyes connected with the only pair of eyes that had. Ones that were black and full of disbelief. Buffy felt like she had been caught red-handed at a murder scene and the back of her neck heated up. Her fearful eyes stared into his shocked ones in such a mixture of emotions that it took a while before she looked away. She could feel her hands shaking as she moved back to the minimal safety of her work station, all the while begging, hoping he wouldn't draw any attention to her and leave it be.

His black eyes were wide and his brow furrowed. The moment her sleeve had lowered and he caught sight of the bit of the Dark Mark that mirrored his own, it was as if the floor had been pulled out from under him. He'd had his suspicions, but to have them proven right was still a shock he had not been expecting. Snape continued to watch her as she hurried back to the safety of her friend. Her haunting eyes so full of surprise, fear, guilt, insecurity left his mind reeling. He finally tore his gaze away, any longer and he would've drawn suspicion. Quietly, he moved to his desk and sat down. His face was blank as if nothing had changed, but his thoughts- his thoughts were a whirlwind of questions, revelations, speculations, and memories.

There had been whispers, in the underground, there were always whispers. After Voldemort had escaped Quirrell's useless body, he had disappeared into the darkness, notifying no one of his whereabouts. Days later, out of nowhere, the Dark Mark had burned fiercely in the arms of select Death Eaters, commanding them to Voldemort's presence. Snape did not attend, as he did not attend any of the other callings thereafter. The whispers had come about Voldemort's secret meetings and he did not understand why the Dark Lord had deliberately overlooked him, but he had remained patient and silent. If the Dark Lord did not wish for your presence, then it was left at that. A few weeks later, more whispers came. As it happened, the Dark Lord was once again not in his own body but resided in another; in a smaller, female host. It had not been like it was with Quirrell, however. Voldemort's face did not stick out of the back of the girl's head. Outwardly, there was no indication of Voldemort's presence at all. He was like the air inside of a cave- cold and stirring. Her identity was kept a secret. Only those privileged enough to be chosen for the meetings were witness to her face. The Death Eaters guarded the secret greatly, never once revealing who the girl was, under pain of punishment by the Dark Lord, but, inevitably, an idiotic few had let it slip that it was, in fact, a young girl- a child, really. Surprised at first, Snape had let the thoughts go as quickly as they had come, the young girl could've been anybody and most likely used for her sweet, innocent appearance nothing more, but then the incident at the Chamber of Secrets occurred and the revelation at the meeting of the Order of the Phoenix came and now today . . .

The bell had rung, signaling the end of class. The students cleared away their work and packed up their things, with Buffy doing it as fast as humanly possible. She stuffed her notes, quill and book into her bag in one foul swoop hoping to leave the room before-

"Miss Summers, a word," Snape commanded.

-that happened. Her heart seemed to have frozen the moment she heard his voice. Her stomach twisted up in knots and anger flared up for a spark at the never ending ramifications caused by Voldemort and his Dark Mark. Why couldn't Snape have just left it alone?

"I'm probably going to miss lunch," she said to Neville almost quietly.

"What is it?" he asked, glancing at Snape and back.

"I'll see you in the next class."

There was no room for discussion, no mirth or usual Buffyness in her voice or demeanor; after spending so much time with her, Neville understood that sometimes certain things needed to be left as is, so he nodded and walked away.

Buffy kept her eyes down, never looking at anyone. Didn't see Draco or Harry's questioning, worried eyes. Didn't see Hermione's suspicious gaze. Didn't see Ron's curious glance that flitted from Buffy to Snape. Didn't want to see anyone's anything.

The room finally cleared out and the atmosphere grew tense and dark.

Calmly, Snape walked over to a quiet, motionless Buffy; his black eyes staring at her small, timid form. All the pieces had come together. He had finally come to solve one of the biggest riddle he had come across.

He sternly came to stand before her and stretched out his hand expectantly. She knew there was no hiding it now. She couldn't run, couldn't deny the presence of it. Couldn't pretend it never happened. As much as she loathed it, Buffy admitted her defeat and, still not looking at him, slowly placed her arm in his hand. Quickly grabbing a tight hold of her wrist, he roughly lifted up her sleeve. His eyes studied the Dark Mark as it still slithered and pulsed with a life of its own. It was just like his, like so many others, and how strange it was to see it on the arm of a child, of a warrior who was destined to stand against everything Lord Voldemort was striving for.

"How long has this been on your arm?" his deep voice questioned.

Her mouth felt so dry it was hard to speak.

"Second year," she said, and no fraction of surprise passed through his mind.

"There was no sign of this the last time."

She debated on whether to answer. He didn't need to know more, he shouldn't have to know more, but it spilled out of her nonetheless.

"It comes . . . a-and goes."

"It disappears?" he asked, taken aback.

"Most of the time, it's gone," she said, the truth rolling out of her. "I figured out that when it pops up, it usually means-"

"The Dark Lord is calling for you."

His eyes never glanced away from her as he assessed every reaction, despite her eyes not once having looked up from the ground since he had come to stand before her. He lowered his gaze and studied the mark again, watching its movement intently before pulling the sleeve back down and releasing her arm briskly as if it burned.

"Is Dumbledore aware of your . . . situation?"

She nodded. "Since I was brought up from the Chamber."

"Of course," he drawled out. "Well, knowing you, Miss Summers, I'm quite sure there are others knowledgeable about your predicament. Your mother, for example?"

"Yes," she once again answered honestly.

"And your father?"

Buffy turned her face away as if the question had slapped her. The pain of self-blame came back in an instant. It was as if Snape had asked her to admit why her father had abandoned his family.

"Yes," she replied weakly.

He noticed the immediate change in her posture and voice, but proceeded past it. Her family problems were none of his concern.

"And there is, of course, Black and Lupin, correct?"

"Yes."

He made an arrogant, snarky 'humph'-ing noise at that.

"What about any of your little friends? Mr. Longbottom? Or Mr. Malfoy, perhaps?"

She shook her head. "No. No one else knows anything. Not even Draco. Unless his father told him."

The left of his lip twitched a little. So it appears Lucius was privileged enough to be called to the meetings. His back stiffened even more at his thoughts and his voice was firmer as he spoke.

"Your mark is unique, I'm sure you've noted that," he said. It was fair to say that no other Death Eater had the ability to make their mark disappear as it was to be worn as a badge of honor. Snape figured, however, Buffy's was to be seen as a mark of ownership and having the Dark Mark on the arm of a twelve-year-old girl at all times would have roused suspicion. While Buffy only saw the stain as nothing more than a violation. "You should also note that not every appearance of it should be taken as a summons from the Dark Lord."

Her eyes quickly gazed up at him, curious at his words.

"Meaning?"

"He is not a fool, Miss Summers, careful not take him as one. He has knowledge of you residing within the safety of Hogwarts, he knows you will not adhere to his beck and call," he said, slightly irritated that she had not seen how serious the appearance of the mark was. "In my opinion, the mark serves as a reminder."

"A reminder?"

"Of what he is capable of," he replied his voice grave in warning. "Of the very few limitations in his way. Of everything he has done. He has knowledge of your most private, intimate memories from the time he resided within your mind. He has come to know you very well. He knows what talents you possess, how much use you are to him." He paused suddenly. His chin lifting and moving to his right as he gazed at her curiously. "You do know why he chose you?"

She felt a tightening in her chest as the memories of the Chamber of Secrets came flooding back. She remembered all his whispers. She remembered his fight for control. She remembered all his promises. His reasons. Buffy knew exactly why Voldemort had chosen her, and Snape had definitely figured it out a lot faster than she had.

"Yes. I know," she said softly. "I remember everything about what happened during that time."

That was another of the many surprises Snape was being presented with today.

"You remember?"

She nodded again, slowly this time.

"I know, it's weird a thing to . . . from what I understand, people don't usually remember things from the time they were possessed. It's supposed to be all dark spots, but . . . I do. I remember everything." Everything single thing she wished she could forget. Her eyes glazed over as she submersed herself in her memories. "It didn't start really coming back until a couple of weeks ago and then it all sort of came at once. The things he said. Everything he made me do. Everything he . . . everything." There came a crawling feeling over her skin as the memories flitted through her mind. "I know why he chose me, what he planned to do, how he wanted . . . I also know how he was pushed out. I figured that while he was in my head . . . in me . . . he would've tried to learn as much as he could. To see things I never wanted him to see. To learn how things worked so he could get what he wanted. He risked it working both ways though, and it did. While he was roaming around in my head or when he took over, I learned a few things about him too. I remember his thoughts and his words, what he had done, the scary way he saw the world, the scary way he saw everything, actually, but, unfortunately, he was really careful to not reveal- to let me learn too much. To let me see the actual details of his plans. But I did see things . . . a lot of things . . . things I wish I . . . "

Her words died away as some of those memories overtook her. Tom Riddle as a boy. Voldemort's initial rise to power. The methods he used to get where he was, to get what he wanted. The deaths. The tortures. The burning hatred he had of Harry. The things he whispered into her mind as she slept. The things he made her do. The violation she felt as she remembered his searching and prodding for the purpose of possessing her in the first place. His promises to come back. The cold laugh that still echoed in her nightmares. The vice like grip he had over her mind.

She had been quiet for some time and Snape looked at her curiously as her memories seemed to have consumed her. Her hands balled up into fists, her eyes glossy and unfocused, the stillness of her body as if she had forgotten to breathe. It unnerved him, strangely so, as it would if he left her as she was, as there was a good chance she would remain lost in her mind for a good long time if he didn't disrupt its course.

"Miss Summers," he called out almost gently.

Buffy quickly unfurled her hands and focused her eyes as if nothing had happened.

"I'm fine," she said automatically, as if the words meant nothing, which might, in fact, be true.

Snape's curious gaze didn't waver at the rapid change; as a matter of fact, it only intensified from the appearance of it.

Buffy shook off the feelings that the memories brought on and pushed them back into the recesses of her mind as she had done before.

"Uh, like I, um, like I was saying," she continued on from before, "I didn't get to see anything really important. Everything I saw, we already know, which it makes my experiences kind of pointless now. So, if, uh . . . u-unless there's anything else . . . "

Her skin felt too tight and, despite the coldness of the room, she felt hot. Snape knew too much about her now, more than most of the people who were closest to her knew, and it was making her uncomfortable.

The slight shaking of her hands did not bode well for her emotional or mental health at the moment. Though she herself was unaware she was doing it, Snape could see her tiny hands tremble. It was evidence of her now fragile state – of the rawness of her mind. Voldemort may have left her body but his presence still lingered, because despite her sharp tongue and trembling hands that could rip a demon in two, Buffy Summers was still under arrest of what had been done to her. Still in the process of healing the wounds from her childhood when she was forced to lose control of her own body and commit acts of unspeakable evil. The Dark Mark on her arm no longer looked like a mark of ownership to Snape, it was now a mark of mockery, of intrusion and it unnerved something within him once again.

Snape straightened his posture and lifted up his chin– a subconscious mechanism he had adapted early on so it would appear as though he cared less about another's well-being and as an effort to trick himself into believing it as well.

"There's not much in easing the effects of . . . your _condition_," he said, looking pointedly at her arm to convey his meaning. "Not the physical aspects of it."

Buffy felt self-conscious and vulnerable at his gaze and she placed her arm behind her.

"May I go now?" she requested, bypassing his comment.

He stared at her with his dark eyes that, if possible, had grown even darker since the start of their conversation before he gave a very short almost unnoticeable nod.

Buffy purposely avoided looking at him any further and promptly placed her school bag on her shoulder. Her steps were hard and fast as she raced to the door, but just as she reached it and neared freedom–

"Miss Summers," he called.

Buffy immediately stopped, waiting quietly while refusing to turn around and face him.

"Be aware that those appearances on your arm are warnings," he said solemnly. "He is not through with you yet."

A dry, thick feeling like cough syrup went down her throat. Her vocal chords strung so tight from the possession that wouldn't end that when she spoke her words came out hoarse.

"I know."

The door opened soon after and it let it in the faint sounds of chatter and casts of light from the outside world, bringing the room's occupants back into reality. Buffy rejoined the rest of the castle eagerly and let the door bang shut – leaving both Snape and what he had learned behind her. Though Snape would not soon forget and stood in his chamber a good while even after his lessons were over, pondering the overwhelming information he had been presented with, hoping that of all the memories and information Buffy had discovered while Voldemort was in possession of her body, his secret, that he was still on Voldemort's roster of active Death Eaters, per Dumbledore's orders, would have been kept from her knowledge.

Buffy didn't speak to anyone for the rest of the day. Answered any worried queries with 'I'm fine' and denied any requests to hang out to talk with 'need to study'. Once classes were over, she hurried to her dormitory and closed herself off behind the curtains that surrounded her bed, trying and failing to forget all about Dark Marks, memories and Snape as their conversation kept replaying in her head.

Buffy didn't know why she had answered him so openly with no provocation. It had been worse than the Veritaserum because this time she had been completely honest out of her own free will. But why? Why had she done it? She moved uncomfortably around her bed, wrestling with the question, and only when she finally settled onto her stomach and stared at the sliver of light that peeked at the edge of the bed curtain did the most likely answer appear. The reason she had shared was because she had been waiting to, and someone had prodded hard enough to poke a hole and let the air out of the balloon. A someone who also held the Dark Mark on his arm, who understood what it felt like when it burned like fire, who knew Voldemort personally and not in passing name or reputation, somebody who just understood in such a simple way of what it's like to deal with things that they had done, to regret their mistakes—someone who used to be a Death Eater as well. That was why. But damn it! Out of all the people on this PTB forsaken earth, why did it have to be Snape? The irritation of the thought made Buffy shift in her bed again . . . and shift . . . and shift . . . until she shifted herself right to sleep.

* * *

The sky was a dark, royal purple that flowed like a calm sea. Trees large and bare stood like stone on the sloped ground. Their bone-white branches adorned in paper lanterns that glowed with an eerie white light.

Buffy was making her way toward a girl with long, scraggly, blonde hair who faced away from her. The girl's small form still and her head tilting up towards the sky. There were no sounds to be heard, as if the land had fallen asleep, and Buffy's presence didn't stir the girl's concentration as she arrived and paused right beside her. Buffy's hazel eyes searching for what the silvery protuberant ones were so focused on.

"I don't see it," Buffy said.

"You have to wait," Luna replied, gently. "Just because you can't see it, it doesn't mean it's not waiting."

Multicolored flashes went through the sky like shooting stars.

"It's too many."

"They're not involved."

Green lights suddenly sparked into the purple sky shaped like doves. They glowed brightly, flying in place as if held by string.

"There now," Luna said as she smiled. "Don't you see it, Buffy?"

Buffy saw the doves, but there was something wrong. A large snake made of fire suddenly slithered through the sky. The doves flapped their wings harder at the presence of it, but they couldn't move and their green glow became brighter in fear. Then one by one, the fire snake began to devour each little light. Humanly screams of the green doves spread through the sky until every light was extinguished and the fire snake slithered on, leaving a dreaded quiet in the raging purple sky.

"It's over," Buffy said flatly.

Luna's smile widened and her silver eyes had turned red when Buffy saw them again.

"It's not over," she said sweetly. "It's barely at the middle. Don't you see it, Buffy?" The sky had turned red orange and the white tree branches began to bleed. Luna leaned in closer and whispered into Buffy's ear. "He wants to kill Harry, but he wants to swallow you."

Buffy awoke with a start, her heart pounding hard and fast in her chest. Sweat beaded on her brow and the air became too thin to breathe.

_What the hell was that?_

* * *

Notes: My reason, not excuse, for the very late update . . . Comic Con! My first ever! Took a while to get ready for it, spent nearly week at it, and took a while to recover from it. But despite all the lines, and the waiting, and the mass of people it was freaking awesome! Unfortunately I didn't get to see the HP preview they held, missed it by like twenty people ahead of me damn it, but no worries, turns out there wasn't much that hadn't already been seen. But despite even that I had a serious case of writer's block. Nothing wanted to come out. I was especially stuck on the Buffy and Snape conversation. Which I wrote about six different ways before settling on the one I was happiest with :)

And I finally figured out why this story is taking so damn long – too much back story! I wasn't sure if I was going to continue to books six and seven so I squeezed a lot of stuff into this story just in case. Especially since I started on book 5. So yay! Mystery solved.

A billion thanks for the reviews and the reads! Hope you enjoyed to chapter and look forward to more :)


	63. Chapter 63

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

_I'm fourteen years old. I don't wanna die._

It was three o' clock in the morning – give or take – and Harry was wide awake, sitting up in bed with his back against the headboard, currently staring at a twirling silver cross that hung on a necklace he held in his hand.

_They say how he's gonna kill me? Do you think it'll hurt?_

He had been so afraid. So angry. So terrified beyond belief. All because of a stupid prophecy. He would face someone or something called the Master and that would be it. His life would be over in an instant. They had told him he was destined to die before he really had a chance to live.

_Were you even gonna tell me?_

_I was hoping that I wouldn't have to. That there was . . . some way around it . . . _

_I've got a way around it. I quit!_

_It's not that simple._

_I'm making it that simple! I quit! I resign, I-I'm fired, you can find someone else to stop the Master from taking over!_

He had been talking to an older man with glasses and a man with dark hair whose names he couldn't remember. Whose names he wasn't even sure he'd heard. They were in that same library he had dreamt about before, and he'd seen the same men in other dreams. Strange dreams that had felt so real. They weren't constant, a night here, a night there, but every one of them felt as if he were reliving memories, and the people he had seen were so familiar. People who were strangers when he woke, but whom he had cared for so deeply in those dreams. And the little silver cross he currently held had also made its appearances. He had shoved down a female vampire's mouth. He was looking up at a large male vampire who was about to bite him before the vampire burned himself on the pendant and ran away in pain. And most currently, less than an hour ago, Harry had ripped the necklace from around his neck and threw it on the floor in anger.

It seems that ever since Harry had found the silver cross underneath the pillow at Grimmauld Place, he'd been having these strange dreams of vampires and demons, death and sacrifice.

"Who do you belong to?" he asked of it out loud.

The silver cross only silently twirled and twirled, seeming to wink at him every time it glinted in the moonlight.

Harry sighed and sagged heavily against the headboard. He wasn't going to find anything tonight. His eyes transfixed themselves on the little cross as he spun it again and the haunting words from his dream came to the forefront of his mind.

_I'm fourteen years old. I don't wanna die._

* * *

There was no getting back to sleep for Buffy after her nightmare. Her eyes kept seeing green doves being eaten by fire snakes and her ears couldn't close themselves off to their horrid screams. She lay wide awake throughout the night – even music couldn't lull her back to sleep. A good long run would've helped to ease her nerves and tire her muscles, but with Umbridge being in charge and in high alert since Fred and George's escape, she didn't want to take the risk of leaving the castle at night. So, there was no option but to lay in bed until the sun came.

The moment the first ray of morning light caught Buffy's eye, she rose from her mattress and readied for the day. She washed up, combed her hair, changed out of her slept-in uniform into a fresh new one, made her face presentable and, as she quietly exited the dormitory, she made a mental note to take a good long bath the first chance she got.

It was much too early for the average student to be at breakfast, and Buffy was glad to find herself sitting alone in the large quiet hall. With the food yet to be laid out for the morning's meal, she busied herself with the studying she had dismissed doing yesterday afternoon, and waited out the time.

"It wasn't me."

It had been deathly quiet, and when a voice interrupted the stillness, Buffy jumped in surprise. She looked up from her book and found Luna standing across from her. Buffy never even heard the door open. A customary '_Hi, Luna'_ was on the cusp of her lips but she quickly recalled the girl's opening statement, and closing the book, Buffy looked at the Ravenclaw with sincere eyes.

"I know. I've had enough freaky dreams involving my friends to know the difference," she said, and curiosity soon crept in. "But how did . . . are you sure you're not related to Dumbledore?"

Luna bypassed the question and sat down.

"I was having a very nice dream. I was swimming in apple sauce while a lovely elephant played the flute when I was suddenly where you were," she answered. "Clairvoyant abilities run in our family."

Given her family history, that statement should've been a given.

"Right, of course it would. Being related to Drusilla should've been the tip off."

"It was a bit odd being able to hear and see everything, but not actually being anything. It was rather a strange dream, though, wasn't it?"

"Freaky seems like a better word," Buffy said. Those little green doves being eaten alive came flashing into her mind and what Luna #2 had whispered came to echo in her ear. "Luna, did . . . there was . . . there was something that the other you said . . . something that . . . "

Luna's eyes had always held a dreamy, far off look. Even while someone spoke to her, it didn't seem as if she was paying attention. But when she looked at Buffy now, her eyes were clear and focused, and gently, she reached across the table to take one of Buffy's hands into her own.

"It's who you are, Buffy. He can't take it from you."

The moment Luna spoke up, Buffy was grateful she didn't have to voice the reason for her fear out loud. She didn't know if she even could have, given the chance.

"I know, but it's the trying part that scares me."

There weren't enough words to comfort that fear and Luna knew it. So, instead she gripped Buffy's hand a little tighter and offered the warmest smile she could give. And Buffy was grateful for it.

Food suddenly appeared on the tables around them. It was time for breakfast.

Students slowly and groggily began to stream in. Half-opened eyes and still warm hands reaching out for a drop of caffeine.

"I see you're feeling better," Ginny said to Buffy as she sat beside her.

"Better than the alternative," Buffy replied.

"Rightly so," she said, and turned her smile to another. "Good morning, Luna."

"Good morning, Ginny."

Neville came shuffling and yawning next, settling himself next to Luna.

"Mornin'," he said.

A chorus of three 'mornin's' came in reply.

"Here, just the way you like it," Buffy said, handing him a cup of coffee.

"Where's mine?" Ginny inquired.

"You're trying to cut back remember?"

Neville took a long sip and let the warmth and caffeine settle into his system.

"Thanks. How long have you been awake?"

"Long before the roosters."

"Have you been up all night?" asked Ginny.

"Not all night. About sixty-forty."

"How are you feeling?" Neville asked.

Buffy gave the customary nod and smile. "Good. Not even a little tired."

"I meant about yesterday."

"I know."

"Buffy, what . . . what happened yesterday exactly?" Ginny asked, and the moment she saw Buffy's expression turn troubled, she backtracked. "I-I mean i-if you don't mind me asking."

She didn't mind the asking in general, she knew it was coming, and yet . . .

"I'd rather not talk about it. Not yet. If that's okay."

They knew she was the slayer. They knew what had occurred down in the Chamber of Secrets. They knew Voldemort was involved, though it was never discussed out openly. What they didn't know was the depth of Voldemort's involvement. Of the things he had made her do. Of the Dark Mark that, for the moment, lay dormant under her skin.

"O-of course, Buffy. Of course it's okay," Neville said.

And that was why she loved them.

A few more teachers arrived to the Head table for breakfast, and Buffy felt ice in her veins when she saw that Snape was one of them. He had just reached his seat when he looked in her direction. The eye contact was brief, but even after he had looked away, Buffy felt as if he was pointing a finger at her and it made her feel small. Too small. Igniting that vulnerable feeling that had always made her uncomfortable and anxious.

"I, um, I forgot my . . . " she stuttered out, while in desperate search of something that would excuse her from the table " . . . Divination book! Upstairs. I probably won't make back in time so, Neville, I'll see you in class and I'll see you guys later."

She gave a short, meaningless smile and left.

Ginny turned to look at the Head table, hoping to maybe see some sort of reaction out of Snape at Buffy's exit, but he was currently chatting with Professor McGonagall and appeared as though he didn't notice Buffy at all.

"Snape had to have said something to upset her," Ginny said, after turning back.

"She doesn't even want to be in the same room as him," Neville said, and pointed out the fact that . . . "We don't have Divination today."

It was common knowledge that the ceiling in the Great Hall was enchanted to mimic the outside sky but it also had the ability to reflect the emotions of the occupants it sheltered which was why a cluster of clouds had started to turn grey above Ginny and Neville at their worried thoughts and breakfast seemed to have also lost its flavor.

"I always like it when it rains," said Luna unexpectedly. "Especially when it's a thunderstorm. It's dark and loud but just for a bit, once it passes, everything always feels so much cleaner, as if it's new again. I wonder what sort of pudding there'll be for dinner."

"Get any of that?" Ginny asked Neville, who shook his head in reply.

Once Buffy was outside, the air became easier to breathe. There was nothing in front of her but land, and nothing above her but sky. And she felt ridiculous. Angry! Irritated! She ran away. Simple as that. She actually ran the hell away! And from what? From Snape and his nonexistent judgment? What the hell was the matter with her?

Buffy angrily thumped the wall behind her with a strong fist before resting against it with a hard smack. She shouldn't have run away like that. A Slayer shouldn't run away.

"If I asked, there's a zero percent chance you'd tell me, right?"

From the first sound of his voice, Buffy straightened up and turned to Draco as he stepped out of the doorway that stood beside her. His hands were stuffed into his pockets and he stood before her with a calmness so very few, if any beside Buffy, had seen.

"Shouldn't you be eating right now?" she asked.

"Shouldn't you?"

"Not hungry."

"Neither am I."

"Liar."

"You definitely are."

Draco pulled an apple out from his pocket and handed it her.

"Is this your apology for the whole D.A ambush thing?" she asked after taking it.

"Why would I apologize for that?" he asked, igniting an amused smile from Buffy at his charming little arrogance. "Actually, it's my sorry for fighting . . . in general."

"Well . . . as long as you're sorry for something, guess it's okay."

Buffy rested her back against the wall behind her again and began to play with the stem of the apple. Then she noticed, out of the corner of her eye, that Draco was blatantly waiting for her turn to apologize. He could be such a baby sometimes. Always had to be even-stevens.

"And I'm sorry, too. But only for the fighting," she said, appeasing the _mature_ Malfoy. "How'd you know I'd be out here?"

He shrugged. "Wild guess. When you walked out of the Hall it didn't look like you wanted to be cooped up anywhere, so I took a chance."

Draco had been thinking about it from the moment she had been asked to stay after Potions class yesterday. When she refused to speak to anyone after that, it worried him even more. When she walked out of breakfast, it had reached the hilt.

"Buffy, I know you won't tell me if I ask about what happened with Snape, because whatever it was seemed to have upset you enough to ruin your breakfast, but . . . are you okay?"

The million-dollar question of the day, but in all honesty, she was okay. As okay as Buffy had become used to being since she was thirteen years old and the whirlwind of her life became a constant twist of ups and downs and demons and wizards. Sure, it wasn't the average, normal kind of okay, but it was the best Buffy could hope for given the situation.

With a firm, open expression on her face, she looked him straight in the eye, the only thing that would convince him she was telling the truth, and said, "I'm okay."

However, Draco needed a little more reassurance than that given Buffy's tendency to lie about her well-being.

"Honest?"

"Honest."

He paused and then gave a firm little nod and that was that. Coolly, he moved around to her left side and pressed his back against the wall. He crossed his left ankle over his right, stuffed his hands into his pockets, trying to appear as aloof as possible.

"So . . . what did you and Professor Snape talk about?" he asked airily.

Buffy immediately stopped polishing and picking at the fruit in her hands. _Sneaky little ferret_. She gave him a sly, reproachful look and then shoved the apple into his big mouth.

"Eat your breakfast."

* * *

In the long view, Buffy's mood seemed to have reached its usual Buffyness, even while being frazzled, along with the rest of the fifth year students, in preparing for the very near OWLs they had coming. However, there was one who was not so convinced and who was still curious about what had occurred with Snape.

Appearances could be deceiving - Harry had learned that lesson very well over the years. The smiles, the chuckles they all seemed to be genuine, but there were times when Buffy's focus appeared not to be on their lessons. She would gaze out a window with a brooding expression or stare at the front of the class with an engrossed look on her face that Harry was sure had nothing to do with Charms or Herbology. It nagged at him to the point where he had to literally force himself to not think about Buffy so he could soak up at least thirty-percent of what the teacher was saying. If only the OWLs were about Buffy Summers, then maybe . . . who was Harry kidding, he would still fail.

It should have been easier to concentrate on studying in the common room where Buffy was nowhere in sight, but Harry had no such luck. His curiosity would not rest.

"Please."

"No."

"Pleeease."

"I said no, Ron."

Buffy appeared to have known why she was asked to stay after class. There was an air about her when Snape had requested she stay as if she had been expecting it; as if she knew that whatever Snape was about to tell her was not something she wanted to hear.

"Come on, Hermione."

"I won't cheat!"

"It's not cheating if we don't get caught. Look, we'll work out a system of blinks, see, and-"

"And people will think we're having some sort of fit."

"Not if we do it properly."

What is it? What could Snape possibly -

" _. . . understand, that it's so simple."_

"_Nothing about this is simple, Miss Summers. I am very well aware of that fact."_

"_If you were so aware, you wouldn't be asking this."_

"_And if you didn't possess the mind of a child, you would be able to understand why I must."_

"_It's not out of must, Professor, it's out of personal curiosity. And not until Dumbledore – "_

Christmas! Back during their holiday at Grimmauld Place Snape had also wanted something out of Buffy. Something she was not so willing to give. Could it possibly be the same thing? What would Snape have been so curious about? Could it have been to ask her why she came back? No, it was too late for that type of question. Maybe it was why she left? No, that . . . wait, there was something . . . during an Occlumency lesson Harry had felt Snape . . . no, he wouldn't – would he?

"Why can't you just study?"

"You know I'm no good at studying."

It couldn't have been that - it had to be something else. There was no reason for Snape to have known that information, to actually look into his mind and . . .

"I'll lend you my study cards. You can use those."

"It won't do me any good, it's still– Harry?"

Harry had stood up from his seat and was marching toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked.

But Harry didn't answer and kept on walking – right out the door, right down the stairs, right through the halls and right to the dungeons. He knocked on the door and waited, and as the seconds ticked by, his rationality caught up to his anger. _What are you doing? Are you mad? Run away, run away_ were the words that kept repeating themselves in his mind, but the door creaked open and it was too late.

"Mr. Potter," Snape addressed.

Then the words escaped out of Harry before he had to chance to prevent their flight.

"You did it on purpose. You wanted to see everything that happened down in the Chamber of Secrets– everything with Buffy. You asked her about it, but she never wanted to tell you. So you looked for it during my Occlumency lessons."

Snape didn't flinch. Didn't blink. Didn't give a single reaction to the accusations.

"I haven't the slightest idea of what you are referring to," he said calmly.

The hell he didn't!

"You wanted to know more about happened, that's why you made her stay after class. You didn't have a right to see that."

Snape took a step closer and stared down menacingly at Harry.

"Do not lecture me, Potter. If you had closed off your mind as you should have then, you wouldn't have allowed me to see it."

"I didn't let you see it; you wanted to find it!"

Anger boiled up into Snape's eyes.

"Restrain yourself, Potter."

Snape had pulled his authority and it allowed Harry's common sense to reel back his emotions. He took a step back and let his eyes lower, but his protectiveness still spurred him on.

"I don't know what you told her, but there's a reason why she doesn't want to remember and she shouldn't have to." He raised his eyes again and they were clear and stern. "I can't take those memories back, but don't mention them to Buffy again."

Snape stood silent. He didn't scowl in annoyance or anger. He seemed to be rather pensive. His eyes no longer flinted in irritation, they even seemed to be . . . understanding of his protectiveness.

"It's getting late, Mr. Potter, I suggest you head to your dormitory before the Headmistress finds you roaming the halls."

There was nothing Harry could do now except obey. He had said what he wanted to say and it would be a smart move to do what Snape ordered before he pushed any further. He nodded in acknowledgment and turned around, but when he heard Snape's voice again, he turned back.

"And, Mr. Potter, I will advise you to stop prying into business you know nothing about. As I am sure Miss Summers would not appreciate you interfering in her affairs. "

Then the door slammed shut.

Harry stood there not blinking, not breathing, not – _Bloody hell! What did I just do?_

His heart started beating like it was trying to jump out of his chest. A cold sweat beaded down his back. He had talked back to Snape. He had actually made accusations - out loud! Had he lost his mind? What would possess him to do that? Sure, Snape had violated his mind for his own benefit. Sure, Snape had upset Buffy, but did he really need to confront him for it? He was just a student, and especially at the top of the list of Snape's least favorite people. This had to be a case of over-studying, it had to be. That, or he was going completely out of his mind.

Harry backed away slowly, hoping Snape wouldn't wrench open the door and expel him right on the spot. When he had covered enough distance, Harry took off in a run and didn't stop until he reached the safety of the portrait. He stopped and waited until he regained his breath before entering the common room.

"Harry, is everything all right?" Hermione asked upon seeing him.

"Yeah," he said, offhandedly.

"Why'd you walk out of here like that? Where'd you go?" Ron asked.

That's a good question and Harry had very little time to come up with a plausible answer.

"I . . . thought I'd dropped something but then I remembered where I left it."

"What'd you think you dropped?" Ron asked.

"Just some notes I had. Nothing important."

"See, Ron, even Harry's been carrying his notes around. Something you should also be doing."

Ron muttered something inaudible under his breath, causing a scornful look from Hermione even if she hadn't understood what he had said, before all the focus went back to studying. Except for Harry, who looked to the portrait every so often, worried Snape would come barging in with a hex at the ready.

* * *

The OWLs were now well-nigh upon them and to prepare for the upcoming event, examination timetables and details of the procedure for the exams were given to all fifth-year students during their Transfiguration lesson.

"As you can see," Professor McGonagall told the class as they copied down the dates and times of their exams from the blackboard, "your OWLs are spread over two successive weeks. You will sit the theory exams in the mornings and the practice in the afternoons. Your practical Astronomy examination will, of course, take place at night. Now, I must warn you that the most stringent anti-cheating charms have been applied to your examination papers. Auto-Answer Quills are banned from the examination hall, as are Remembralls, Detachable Cribbing Cuffs and Self-Correcting Ink. Every year, I am afraid to say, seems to harbor at least one student who thinks that he or she can get around the Wizarding Examinations Authority's rules. I can only hope that it is nobody in Gryffindor. Our new - Headmistress -" Professor McGonagall said, looking as if it had left a bad taste in her mouth "-has asked the Heads of House to tell their students that cheating will be punished most severely - because, of course, your examination results will reflect upon the Headmistress's new regime at the school -"

Professor McGonagall gave a tiny sigh and the nostrils of her sharp nose flared.

"- however, that is no reason not to do your very best. You have your own futures to think about."

"Please, Professor," said Hermione, her hand in the air, "When will we find out our results?"

"An owl will be sent to you sometime in July," said Professor McGonagall.

"Excellent," said Dean Thomas in an audible whisper, "so we don't have to worry about it till the holidays."

But worrying about taking them was a whole other story.

Monday was Doomsday and Theory of Charms was the first battle. The weekend before the first exam, the fifth years were in full panic, trying to fit all five years worth of lessons into two days. The Gryffindor common room was littered with open books and piles of notes and so many spells were being cast that it was a miracle no one ended up in the infirmary. Harry agreed to test Hermione after lunch on Sunday, but regretted it almost at once; she was very agitated and kept snatching the book back from him to check that she had got the answer completely right, finally hitting him hard on the nose with the sharp edge of _Achievements in Charming_.

"Why don't you just do it yourself?" he said firmly, handing the book back to her, his eyes watering.

Meanwhile, Ron was reading two years' worth of Charms notes with his fingers in his ears, his lips moving soundlessly; Seamus Finnigan was lying flat on his back on the floor, reciting the definition of a Substantive Charm while Dean checked it against _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5_; Parvati and Lavender, who were practicing basic Locomotion Charms, were making their pencil-cases race each other around the edge of the table; and Buffy and Neville were sitting in a corner playing cards . . . playing cards?

" . . . future's there I'm just not planning on obsessing over it."

"Thinking about it isn't obsessing over it. It's your future, Buffy. You have to think about it once in a while."

"I think about the future," she said firmly.

"Really?"

"Sure, like, what will tomorrow's sun be like and what I'll do during the summer once school's out."

"That's not the future I was talking about."

"Well, the future is pretty subjective don't you think? Besides, who even knows if I'll have a future to be subjected to, my life will pretty much reach a dead-end before I'm thirty anyway."

Neville lowered his eyes as he slammed his card down on the table. He hated it when she said things like that.

"You will have a future, Buffy," he said firmly, stating it as fact.

Over the years, Buffy had grown used to the idea that she might die early, and she disguised her fear by making jokes, something not everyone appreciated.

"You're right, I probably will. But it better be holding lots and lots of brand new shoes."

Neville was still upset, but he couldn't help but crack a smile. One good joke sometimes helps to ease the sting of a bad one. He had just placed another card down when Harry came by their table.

"Hi," he greeted them.

"Hey," Buffy said.

"Hi, Harry."

He looked down at the seven rows of cards that were facing toward Neville and away from Buffy. The rows were going in numerical order and alternating between black and red.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Playing Doubletaire," Buffy replied, adding a seven of clubs to a row.

"Double-what?"

"Two person modification of Solitaire."

Right. Of course. Obviously.

"Why aren't you guys studying?"

"We've decided to retain our sanity," Neville said.  
"We've been studying all year. This is the rest period before the big game where we're letting it all just soak and settle in." She looked down at her deck of cards and pulled one out. "What about you? Not planning to hit the books?"

He rubbed his nose.

"Not since the books have decided to hit me." And Buffy and Neville winced as they noticed the red welt on the bridge of his nose. "Hermione got a little over-excited."

"I can see that," Buffy said. "Well, you can join us if you want. Distract yourself from the madness around you for a while."

"And play what? Trilitaire?" he asked, sitting himself on one side of the table.

"That would be interesting," Neville said.

"Actually . . . " Buffy began to say as she gathered all the cards on the table and the pack from Neville's hands and shuffled all of them together. "I was thinking we could go fishing."

Dinner was a subdued affair for many that night. Ron wasn't talking, but ate with gusto, having studied hard all day. Hermione, on the other hand, kept putting down her knife and fork and diving under the table for her bag, from which she would seize a book to check some fact or figure. Harry was currently sitting in the middle of Ron and Buffy, though his conversation tended to side with the latter, which also included Neville, Ginny, and Luna. Despite the fact that Harry, Buffy and Neville had been playing cards just before the meal and not immersed in studying like the rest of their schoolmates, they had all come to learn few things for the upcoming Charms exam. While they fished for cards, they casually discussed charms they had learned quickly, had trouble with, and so on and so on. By the end of it all three had picked up a few things they didn't know about.

A loud clinking sound was heard when Hermione's fork slid from her limp fingers and landed with a loud tinkle on her plate.

"Oh, my goodness," she said, staring into the Entrance Hall. "Is that them? Is that the examiners?"

Those within earshot whipped around on their bench. Through the doors to the Great Hall they could see Umbridge standing with a small group of ancient-looking witches and wizards. Umbridge, some were pleased to see, looked rather nervous.

"Shall we go and have a closer look?" said Ron to Harry and Hermione.

The pair nodded, and after Harry made his excuses, the three of them hastened towards the double doors into the Entrance Hall, slowing down as they stepped over the threshold to walk sedately past the examiners.

"They don't look like the bribing kind do they?" asked Buffy and her friends shook their heads.

"Are you nervous?" Ginny asked Neville and Buffy.

"Very," replied Neville.

"But we're trying not to think about it too much though," Buffy said.

"Or else we might want to jump out a window."

"I'm just glad Luna and I still have a whole year to go before we have to take ours."

"Word of advice on that – start studying now," Buffy said.

Buffy felt someone trying to squeeze in between her and the person who had been sitting beside her. When she looked to see who it was, she saw Susie trying to adjust herself.

"You'll just try to fit in anywhere won't you?" Buffy teased.

"Yes," she replied unabashedly.

"What've you got there?" Ginny asked, referring to the small clothed-wrapped package in Susie's hands.

"It's a present for Buffy and Neville."

She unfolded the cloth and pulled out two objects that looked like bookmarks made out of silk.

"Here," Susie said handing a beautiful red one with gold detailing to Buffy and a cobalt blue one with silver details to Neville. "My friend Aiko helped me make them. They're called omamori. They're good luck charms. For your OWL's."

"Aw, that's sweet," Ginny said.

"Course it is. Wouldn't expect anything else from this girl. Thanks, Suze," Buffy said and wrapping an arm around her and giving her a squeeze. "I mean really."

"Thanks, Susie. Th-this is really nice. Th-thank you. I'm sure they'll help a lot."

She blushed a little at their gratefulness and could only nod in response.

"Well, I think this calls for extra dessert for you don't you think?" said Buffy and Susie's blue eyes brightened up as a big piece of lemon meringue pie was placed in front of her before it was all gulped down in a little over a minute.

"I think she's going to need another piece," said Ginny, smiling at the remnants of meringue all over Susie's face.

* * *

None of the fifth-years talked very much at breakfast next day. Parvati was practicing incantations under her breath while the salt cellar in front of her twitched; Hermione was rereading _Achievements in Charming_ so fast that her eyes appeared blurred, and Neville kept dropping his knife and fork and knocking over the marmalade that Buffy or Ginny were quick to pick up at a moment's notice.

"I didn't think I-I would be this nervous. I-I wasn't this n-nervous yesterday," Neville stuttered out.

"That's because yesterday was a whole day away and now we're going to stare into the mouth of the beast."

"You'll do fine, Neville. You've been studying really hard and -" Clink! Ginny picked up the dropped butter knife and gave it back to Neville. "-all you need to do is relax and not worry so much."

Neville's hand shook as he buttered his toast slowly, concentrating as if it would be on the forthcoming exam.

The dreaded moment came and the bell rung, signaling the end of breakfast and the call to arms for the fifth and seventh years for the OWLs and the NEWTs had arrived.

They all exited the Hall and the fifth- and seventh-years milled around in the Entrance Hall while the other students went off to lessons.

"Good luck," Ginny said.

"You'll do wonderfully," Luna said.

"You really will," Susie said, and then the three departed.

Buffy and Neville each took a firm grip on the omamori Susie had given them as they waited, hoping to squeeze out the luck Susie had promised.

At half past nine, the students were called forwards class by class to re-enter the Great Hall, and Buffy and Neville tucked their omamori into their sleeves. The four house tables had been removed and replaced instead with many tables for one, all facing the staff-table end of the Hall where Professor McGonagall stood facing them. When they were all seated and quiet, she said, "You may begin," and turned over an enormous hour-glass on the desk beside her, on which there were also spare quills, ink bottles and rolls of parchment.

Harry turned over his paper, his heart thumping hard - three rows to his right and four seats ahead Hermione was already scribbling - and lowered his eyes to the first question: _a) Give the incantation and b) describe the wand movement required to make objects fly._

Harry had a fleeting memory of a club soaring high into the air and landing loudly on the thick skull of a troll . . . smiling slightly, he bent over the paper and began to write.

The answers were coming easier than Buffy originally thought. It wasn't exactly a slippery slope through the exam but she wasn't exactly pulling at her hair either. Guess all those early months of avoiding complete social contact and studying in the library were finally paying off. After finishing one question and before starting on another, Buffy took a quick peek at Neville. He was hunched over his paper and writing furiously, completely absorbed in what he was doing. It seemed he didn't really have much to worry about.

"Well, it wasn't too bad, was it?" asked Hermione anxiously in the Entrance Hall two hours later, still clutching the exam paper. "I'm not sure I did myself justice on Cheering Charms, I just ran out of time. Did you put in the counter-charm for hiccoughs? I wasn't, sure whether I ought to, it felt like too much - and on question twenty-three -"

"Hermione," said Ron sternly, "we've been through this before . . . we're not going through every exam afterwards, it's bad enough doing them once."

The fifth-years ate lunch with the rest of the school (the four house tables had reappeared for the lunch hour), then they trooped off into the small chamber beside the Great Hall, where they were to wait until called for their practical examination. As small groups of students were called forwards in alphabetical order, those left behind muttered incantations and practiced wand movements, occasionally poking each other in the back or eye by mistake. Buffy and Neville were distanced from the rest as they played the hand-slap game, anything to distract themselves from the nervousness and to keep Neville's hands from shaking.

Hermione's name was called next. Trembling, she left the chamber with Anthony Goldstein, Gregory Goyle and Daphne Greengrass. Students who had already been tested did not return afterwards, so Harry and Ron had no idea how Hermione had done.

"She'll be fine, remember she got a hundred and twelve percent on one of our Charms tests?" said Ron.

Neville's name was in the next group called (which also included Draco), and he froze mid-slap and then Buffy grabbed his hands tightly.

"You'll do great."

He gave a distracted nod and walked with the rest of his group as if here were walking to his execution. Buffy caught Draco's eyes and she smiled encouragingly. He smiled back and his shoulders relaxed. Pansy didn't miss any of it and it strengthened her resolve on her plan even more.

Ten minutes later, Professor Flitwick called, "Parkinson, Pansy - Patil, Padma - Patil, Parvati - Potter, Harry."

"Good luck," said Ron quietly. Harry walked into the Great Hall, clutching his wand so tightly his hand shook.

The numbers dwindled down and then it was Buffy's turn.

"Professor Tofty is free, Miss Summers," squeaked Professor Flitwick, who was standing just inside the door.

"Miss Summers?" said Professor Tofty, consulting his notes. "Oh yes, you had left Hogwarts previously hadn't you? Missed two years?"

"Yes," she said nervously. "B-but I've been studying very hard. Almost constantly. Everyday."

"Good, good. Very good to hear," he said. "Shall we begin? No need to be nervous. Now, if I could ask you to take this egg cup and make it do some cartwheels for me."

She did, though she struggled at first. The egg sort of just jumped around for a bit before it began to flip. The Levitation Charm went really well. The Color Change Charm was a bit of a struggle as the rat that was supposed to turn orange went through a quick spectrum of red, yellow, back to brown and then finally orange. All in all not to bad.

"You made it through alive," Buffy said to Neville once she saw him again.

"I-I was s-so nervous I-I think I almost blew up my rat."

"I'm sure you did fine. Bright side is it's over now. Charms now off the list."

"And only Herbology, DADA, Astronomy-"

"For another day. Not now."

Neville nodded but he was still a bit twitchy during dinner.

"How'd it go?" Ginny asked as soon as she came beside them.

Buffy had barely opened her mouth to speak when Neville dropped his fork and Ginny understood right then and there that no more should be spoken about OWLs.

The next few days were a blur. Transfigurations on Tuesday. Herbology on Wednesday. Then, on Thursday, Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The written exam for DADA had its bumps, just like the others, but thanks to Remus's handy dandy notebook, for Buffy, it wasn't too bad. The practical examination came next and Buffy had hoped that all that practice in the Forbidden Forest would save her day.

"Hello, Professor Umbridge," Buffy greeted as Umbridge was right by the entrance doors upon entering the Hall.

"Miss Summers," she tightly responded.

"Oh, bravo!" cried Professor Tofty, who was examining Harry. Buffy couldn't help but smile at his success. "Very good indeed! Well, I think that's all, Potter . . . unless . . . "

He leaned forwards a little and Buffy sharpened her advanced slayer hearing.

"I heard, from my dear friend Tiberius Ogden, that you can produce a Patronus? For a bonus point . . . ?"

Harry raised his wand, looked directly at Umbridge and imagined her being sacked.

"Expecto patronum!"

His silver stag erupted from the end of his wand and cantered the length of the Hall. All of the examiners looked around to watch its progress and when it dissolved into silver mist Professor Tofty clapped his veined and knotted hands enthusiastically.

"Excellent!" he said. "Very well, Potter, you may go!"

As Harry passed Umbridge beside the door, their eyes met. There was a nasty smile playing around her wide, slack mouth, but he did not care. Unless he was very much mistaken (and he was not planning on telling anybody, in case he was), he had just achieved an 'Outstanding' OWL.

"That was great. Don't you think so, Professor?" Buffy asked after Harry had left.

Umbridge's lips puckered tightly.

"Oh, Miss Summers!" Professor Marchbanks called out. "You're with me, dear!"

Buffy nodded in acknowledgment.

"Looks like it's my turn. Aren't you going to wish me luck, _Headmistress_? I know how much you really want me to pass my OWLs."

Umbridge knew there were people watching. She couldn't lose her composure.

"Good. Luck. Dear," she said tautly.

Was it Buffy or did the whole testing experience become a whole lot brighter?

Friday was the Ancient Runes exam, and those who did not take the subject were free to do as they pleased. For most, that meant more studying; for some, it was blissful denial until Monday.

"But what about number six? Or number-"

"Neville! Exams are over for this round. We have three whole days until it starts again, how about we just relax, okay?"

"B-but-"

"No. No buts. Except for yours stopping its pacing and sitting down."

Neville flopped to ground and immediately picked up his Potions book and began to read, muttering to himself with every sentence.

Buffy leaned back and tilted her face up towards the sky. The sun was good today and it helped her to relax. And it would've helped more if someone hadn't come along to cast a shadow over her.

"Is this what you call studying?" Draco asked.

Buffy tilted her head all the way back, opened her eyes and saw an upside-down Draco.

"Who said I was studying?" she asked.

"You should be studying."

Buffy shrugged. "I'll wing it."

He rolled his eyes. "Even Longbottom's gathered enough of whatever sense he has to study."

Buffy looked over at Neville who was too engrossed in his Potions book to realize they were talking about him.

"He's studying for the both of us."

"Sure he is," he said sardonically. He took a seat next to her and took out something from his pocket. "Mum, sent this over to me today and I remembered how much you like it so . . . "

He unwrapped the package and inside was an apple crumble.

"Ooh," she said delighted.

"Only half," he said and handed her a fork.

"Half is better than none." She got a piece and stuffed it in her mouth. "'ank 'ou."

Draco chuckled and dug his fork in.

"I'm only staying here until it's finished," Draco said and swallowed the bit in his mouth. "Any longer and people are going to think I'm actually friends with-" He shivered. "Longbottom."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Buffy said dismissively and got another piece.

On Saturday, everyone was officially free of testing. Though the studying, of course, went on, with Buffy putting hers off until nighttime when everyone was in their beds asleep and the common room was quiet. Her concentration was at its best when there was no sight or sound to distract her. Neville was adamant on studying all day in his room and Buffy was not about being indoors when she didn't have to be, so she went outside with Ginny to catch up on non-school things.

"He was acting so ridiculous about the whole thing. We won, it's not like I killed his owl," Ginny said.

"Boys and their egos. Its amazing they're able to function at all on a daily basis," Buffy said, and Ginny nodded. "So, guess that means it's over now right?"

"Definitely. I couldn't stand his whining anymore. Michael Corner is now of the past."

"And Dean Thomas is of the future?"

Ginny smiled shyly. "Maybe."

"I've seen you get all smiley when he's around and the greater amount of time you've been spending together. There's definitely a clickness there."

"I like him. He's sweet. So, maybe . . . hopefully . . . "

"There'll the coupledom?"

Ginny nodded.

"By the way he's been looking at you, you got the boy on a string. All you gotta do is reel him in."

Ginny winked. "That's the plan."

Later that day, Ginny and Buffy managed to drag Neville down to dinner, having already missed lunch because of his studious habit. They book-ended him on the bench so there was no chance for escape. Neville had to eat something before he passed out.

Pansy paced along the entry hall. It was all set now and all she had to do was wait. Students were still coming in for dinner and none of them were who she wanted. She had been waiting in the Entrance Hall since before the meal began. It was time and she was so close, all she needed was . . . ugh! What was taking them so long?

Susie had been so caught up studying for her own end of year examinations that she lost track of time. If one of her friends hadn't reminded her that it was time for supper, she would be stuck studying well through the meal and not be a happy little witch as result of it.

"I think Professor Snape might fail me for no reason," Susie said, coming into the Entrance Hall with her friend Gracie.

"He won't do that," Gracie said.

"Sure he will. He's always picking on me. I think he hates me."

"He picks on everyone."

"Not like – Oh!" Susie exclaimed, colliding with the person in front her.

"Watch where you're going!" Pansy turned around and barked, eyeing Susie and Gracie distastefully. "Stupid first years."

Pansy then spun around with all the snobbishness in existence and marched straight into the Hall.

"I really don't like her," Susie said in disdain, and her friend Gracie more than happily agreed. They made a step toward the doorway when Susie's eye caught something on the ground. It was flat and yellow and she bent down to pick it up. "What's this?"

Gracie immediately panicked upon recognizing it.

"Oh, no! Susie, put it back. Put it back!" Gracie urged.

But Susie had already unfolded the object and her eyes widened when she saw Harry Potter's picture staring back at her. It was a copy of the Quibbler. The one that was forbidden by Educational Decree Number Twenty-Seven.

Susie's hands began to shake in fear, but she couldn't release the paper. A terrified lump formed in her throat and she couldn't breathe properly. If she was caught with this . . . if the Headmistress –

"Hem, hem."

Sheer fright went through Susie's veins and when she turned around, she came face to face with a smiling Umbridge.

* * *

Note: I've seemed to misplaced my inspiration :( I was positive I left it behind the stove, but as it turns out it's not there. I had a bit of tricky time writing this chapter out. Especially the Snape and Harry scene - argued with myself time and time again of whether it should be put in or not, but I figured, hey, it's my story I can do what a I want :P

I hope you all out there enjoyed it, and I'm sorry for the very long delay. I'll keep searching for my inspiration and hopefully find it soon as I'm nearing the end of book 5.


	64. Chapter 64

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

"Miss Lore, what is that in your hands?"

Susie could barely breathe; her eyes began to water. She didn't want to go. She liked it here. She didn't do anything wrong. It was just a piece of paper!

"Miss Lore, I ask you again, what is that in your hands?"

What had been a confidential moment was quickly becoming a scene. The whispers started to spread, and the Hall quieted down as every eye in the room focused on Susie and Umbridge.

The girl wouldn't speak. Umbridge could see the fear in her eyes and the shaking of her shoulders. _Children_. She ripped the paper from the girl's hands and held it up in front of her.

"Is this the Quibbler?"

Susie didn't want to, but she had no choice, it was past the point of denial. Slowly and hesitantly, she nodded.

"The one that has been forbidden by Educational Decree Number Twenty-Seven?"

Slowly, she nodded again.

"You do know what happens now, don't you?" Umbridge asked malevolently.

Susie gulped. No. It wasn't fair. It wasn't hers. The paper . . . it wasn't . . .

"Miss Lore?"

Susie's throat felt so dry, and she was afraid her tears wouldn't allow her to speak. But she couldn't stay silent forever. No, there was no escape from this. She had to be brave just like Buffy. She had to be brave. There wasn't anything anybody could do. She could pinch herself raw, but no matter how much she wished, this wasn't a dream. She would be expelled from Hogwarts and that . . . would be that.

"Y-yes," Susie said.

The smile that appeared on Umbridge's face sent a shiver down everyone's spine.

"Well now, you do understand the decree was specific regarding the consequences? Rules are there for a reason, Miss Lore."

"Yes, I understand," Susie said quietly. "I know that I – "

"It's mine!"

Everyone turned at the outburst to the Gryffindor table, where Buffy Summers had stood up from her seat.

"The Quibbler is mine," she said.

There were gasps and the clanging sounds of dropped utensils.

No! Susie immediately turned back to Umbridge. She couldn't let Buffy do this, not when everyone was being nice to her now. Not when she was so close to finishing school.

"No, no, Professor, it's mine. The paper's mine. Buffy didn't – "

"Yours, you say, Miss Summers?" Umbridge asked, ignoring the insignificant girl; there were much bigger fish to fry.

"Yes, it is. I guess I dropped it on my way in, but the paper is mine."

"Well, in that case. Miss Summers, front and center," Umbridge ordered and then walked steadfast to the front of the room with the widest smile anyone had seen.

"Buffy, no," Ginny whispered.

"Buffy . . . please, don't," Neville whispered.

But she didn't listen, didn't want to listen, and did as she was originally told. She walked to the front without emotion and a gloom fell across the Hall.

When Buffy had returned to Hogwarts after such a long unexplained absence, no one knew what to expect. Throughout the months, it had been proven that Buffy Summers was not the same person she was when she'd left. She was no longer the Queen B everyone had come to loathe. She had returned a sweet, funny person and, even if it took months, people had warmed up to her. She had gained new friendships, some closer than others, that she was immensely, and would always be, grateful for. She had also reaffirmed some old relationships that had suffered through her absence, and had not only reconnected, but strengthened those bonds through her character change. Things had been going well. She had finally found her place. She fit. And now everything was being pulled out from under her because of one piece of paper.

"Buffy!" Susie shouted. She couldn't let her do this.

"Miss Lore! Enough!" Umbridge ordered, and from those words everyone knew there was nothing that would change Umbridge's mind. She had finally gotten the opportunity she wanted - she would be rid of Buffy Summers, and best of all, it was by her own admission.

The anger seared in her veins at Umbridge's order, but Buffy kept silent. She looked back to Susie and smiled. The girl's blue eyes were so full of anguish that it tore at Buffy's heart, and she knew she was doing the right thing in taking her place. Buffy looked to Luna, who had been sitting at the end of the Ravenclaw table, hoping she would understand her silent request. And she did. Quietly, Luna went over to Susie and brought the girl back to her table. Sitting Susie down next to her, Luna placed a comforting arm around her and they both watched helplessly as Buffy continued to walk.

Draco felt his muscles clench and his heart tighten in his chest, frozen in a multitude of emotions as he watched her, everything around him fading into the background. This couldn't be happening. If she admitted the paper was hers, than she would be . . . she can't . . . she can't do this! It was a stupid rule! Why didn't she keep her mouth shut? She promised she wasn't going anywhere. She promised she wouldn't leave again. How dare she put herself on the line for some first year! Why couldn't she . . . damn it, Buffy.

Harry watched in disbelief. One minute, he was talking to Ron about Potions and the next . . . it didn't make any sense! He was playing cards with her just a few days ago. They were in the middle of taking their OWLs. Everyone knew that paper was banned! How did it . . . he . . . he let this happen. It was his fault. He shouldn't have given that interview. None of this would be happening if he had never said a word. If he had just . . . She had finally come back. Everything was going so well. They were friends, good friends again and now . . . this wasn't fair!

Professor Umbridge stood waiting at the front of the Hall and the overjoyed smile seemed to have impossibly widened even further as Buffy Summers came to stand before her. Justice had finally arrived.

"Now, by your own admission, Miss Summers, is this copy of the Quibbler yours? The one that was banned by Educational Decree Numbered Twenty-Seven?"

"Yes."

Pansy was overjoyed. Over the moon. Over the Earth. She couldn't believe how well this was going. Her plan was just to have Susie expelled to get Buffy angry, but with Buffy taking Susie's place so eagerly, well . . . it was the best thing she could have hoped for. Buffy Summers would now be out of her life, and away from Draco's side, for good. She would be nothing but a horrible, horrible memory. It was . . . ah, it was brilliant.

"Do you understand the consequences of violating the decree?"

"Yes."

The staff was at loss. Their hands were tied. One of their brightest students would be expelled because of a frivolous and downright ridiculous rule. It was infuriating. There was nothing any of them could do; she had in fact broken a rule and the consequence was clear. If harm would've been caused, if Umbridge had not had a solid reason, then maybe they could've spared her, but unfortunately, a ridiculous rule was still a rule and Buffy would be made into an example. And they couldn't help but feel a little disappointed at themselves for letting down a student who had in all true belief done nothing wrong.

Many were so overcome with shock of the situation that they couldn't process beyond of what was currently happening. They didn't think to stop it, to help, if there was anything they could do. It was unreal. To actually think someone would be expelled because of admitting to the possession of a newspaper. To actually think Buffy was leaving because of it. And for some, to actually think Buffy was leaving.

Buffy had now confessed to it all and Umbridge took a deep, satisfied breath.

"These are the moments you want to savor forever," she said gleefully, and for a blink Buffy saw Snyder before her. "Buffy Summers, you are hereby expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You will pack your belongs and leave the premises at once."

And there it was. It was a race to the finish and Buffy came in last. Only one of them would remain at Hogwarts, and in the end, it was Umbridge. Buffy had lost.

A dark storm started to brew in the ceiling above. Buffy's hands clenched into fists. Her eyes hard and her features turned sharp. Then it was as if she was going through the mourning process at high speed. Shock that the expulsion had actually occurred. Denial that Umbridge could possible get away with it. Bargaining that maybe it was dream and all she had to do was wake up. Unbridled anger at the abuse of power the woman in front of her held so unashamedly. Grief at leaving behind her friends, of all the experiences she would miss, of leaving so many things unresolved. Resignation that her choice had been made. Acceptance that there was nothing she could do; she had chosen to take Susie's place, a choice she would never regret. It was a rollercoaster of emotions that had come and gone in almost the blink of an eye. Then, at the end of it all, came clarity, perfect clarity. The kind Buffy had grown accustomed to when faced with an important decision. She'd had it when she was down in the Chamber of Secrets, after Voldemort had been pushed out of her body, and she had tried to save Harry and Ginny. She'd had it right before she had to face the Master. She'd had it when she was standing before Angel and saw that Acathla had opened its mouth. Sure, this wasn't a life-or-death, 'save the world' kind of situation, but it was the kind of moment that affected Buffy's life as she stood before the enemy. She gained a sense of peace of the decision, and just as quickly as the storm had started to gather above her did the sky become clear and bright.

"Okay," she said carelessly and walked away.

And what Umbridge would say next was what everyone was thinking . . .

"What?" Umbridge asked, dumbfounded.

Buffy stopped and turned around.

"Okay."

No! No, no, this was not going to do. She had lost. Where were the tears? The anger? The pleas for mercy?

"Miss Summers, do you understand what–?"

"Oh, I understand. I just-" She shrugged. "-don't care." Buffy walked back up to Umbridge, Slayer confidence in every step. "This doesn't prove anything, you know. It's kinda pointless, really, because that little moment you had, that little power high you felt, didn't really last did it? And that's all you'll ever get. Little power trip moments that aren't worth a damn because in the end, when it all comes down to it, you have nothing. You're a bitter woman with no one in the world. Trapped here with people who despise you because it's the only place where you think you matter. And I don't even feel sorry for you. I would rather be expelled a hundred times over than end up like you. Dolores."

Buffy smiled at the purple coloring creeping into Umbridge's face and then simply turned around and walked away with a bounce in her step. To say that felt good was a serious understatement. It was if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Gone were the OWLs and the studying and the uniforms, but then again, gone were Ginny and Neville and . . . No, she would think about that later, right now she was free and damn did it feel good.

No! NO! Buffy Summers would not leave with the upper hand. She had been expelled! She was not going to get away with this. She had lost! SHE HAD LOST!

Buffy walked past face after face of eyes wide in shock in her direction, but then, as she neared the doors, she noticed that their focus suddenly turned to the front again and their faces had become surprised and fearful; that's when Buffy felt a target on her back.

Buffy whipped around and silently flicked her wand. If possible, all eyes became even wider in astonishment as they watched another wand soar across the room. Buffy quickly snatched it and held it tightly in her grasp as she looked at a stunned, frightened Dolores Umbridge.

"Never, do that again," Buffy said in a dangerous tone.

She flipped the wand once in her hand and then sent it flying through the air, embedding it at the Head Table from the force of her throw. She raised an eyebrow and gave Umbridge the kind of look that had sent demons running from the Hellmouth, then turned around and burst through the doors letting them bang loudly behind her.

No one said a word. Moved an inch. Let out a breath. Shock seemed to have taken on new levels today.

That was not normal. Completely, completely unnatural. Umbridge was right all along, Buffy Summers was not a normal witch. No, witch was too nice a word. Buffy Summers was not a normal _thing_. Thank goodness she was now disposed of. Thanks to Umbridge, the children were now safe. Yes, yes, it was all thanks to her that that _creature_ was gone for good.

Umbridge broke out of her stupor with renewed self-righteousness, and as she tried to regain her composure, she cleared her throat with a, "Hem, hem," and all at once, everyone turned to face her. She took a step back at the unnerving attention, but readjusted herself to her usual arrogant appearance.

"What is everyone staring at?" she said, grasping for that upper hand. "G-go on with your meals. Go on! Nothing to see!"

She turned around stiffly and reached for her poor wand that was sticking out of the Head Table. She tugged at it, and tugged at it, but it wouldn't move. Then she looked at Professor Flitwick, who was unfortunately seated right by where the wand had struck, as if it were his fault it was wedged. Professor Flitwick sat there calmly, unwavering beneath her stare, and gave an exaggerated shrug indicating that he had absolutely no idea of what to do about her predicament and by the looks of it, neither did any other teacher as well.

Ginny quietly made the first move, then Neville, then Luna and Susie at the far end of the Ravenclaw table, all of them moving swiftly to the exit, and once they had reached clearance, a bustling noise came from behind them as more students left their tables, everyone making a run for it to the Gryffindor Tower.

Buffy immediately changed out of her uniform. Not a student anymore, didn't need a uniform. Then after sending a quick owl, she brought out Fred and George's present, placing it on her bed; it would be put to use soon enough and she made sure she had everything she needed and in order. She moved to packing up her things next, luckily with the rooms being kept so clean, it wouldn't take up too much of her time, and it was in the middle of her packing that the door burst open.

"Buffy," Susie cried out as she ran to her and wrapped her arms around her waist. "I'm sorry. I'm . . . I'm . . . "

"Hey," she said calmly, and stroked Susie's hair. "Suze, this isn't-"

"But . . . but it . . . is," she said, hiccupping through her cry. "If . . . if I . . . hadn't . . . "

Buffy removed Susie's arms from her around her, and taking her hands into her own, kneeled down to eye level.

"Susie, listen to me. This isn't your fault. You did absolutely nothing wrong. Do you understand?"

"But . . . but . . . "

"But nothing. Was that paper yours?"

"No."

"When you found it, did you know what it was?"

"No, not . . . right away. And then it was . . . too late."

"Exactly. You didn't do this. It wasn't your fault. You didn't create the rule and you didn't break it. It wasn't you. Okay?"

Susie sniffled and said nothing.

"Okay?" Buffy repeated more firmly giving a quick shake to her hands.

She sniffled again and nodded this time.

"Come here," said Buffy and then hugged Susie tightly.

"Buffy, what . . . what are you gonna do?" Ginny asked.

Through the conversation, girls had been streaming in and gathered in a small bunch by the door.

"I don't know," Buffy said, straightening up. "Travel the world. See the sights. Go to Paris, eat a croissant."

"You changed your clothes," Luna said observantly.

"Uh-huh," Buffy said happily in her pink, floral sun-dress and matching pink cardigan. "With it being summer, I felt a need for breeziness, girliness, and reason for celebration. So out with the old stuffy uniform, in with the new colorful, carefree Buffy."

She went back to packing her things and the girls shared a look. Buffy was way too okay about this.

"So, that's it? You're not even gonna put up a fight?" Ginny asked.

"Nope."

"You're going to let her get away with it?" asked Hermione.

"She can't get away with it if I don't care. And I so don't care."

"Apparently," Ginny said, watching as Buffy went on packing, bewildered that she was taking her expulsion without a fight.

Buffy was putting the last of her things in her trunk when she sensed not all was right with the occupants of the room. She looked at the group of girls and noticed their puzzled expressions about her leaving and her apparently not caring of it. She did care, but only about what she would be leaving behind, but after more than one expulsion in her life, she's come to accept that once they kick you out, you're pretty much kicked out; there's not exactly any leeway.

"Look, even if I wanted to – which I don't, but even if I wanted to, there's nothing I can do. An expulsion is an expulsion. It's completely out of my hands. I'm not saying I'm not sad about leaving, which I am, or that I won't miss being here, which I will, but like I said, there's nothing that anybody can do and I'm really okay with it." Buffy wanted to leave it at that, but by the looks they gave her, it appeared as though that her reasons weren't reason enough. They were accustomed to Buffy pushing back everything Umbridge threw at her, and now it seemed to them, to everyone else, like she was giving in. Which she wasn't, not exactly, it was just . . . Buffy sighed, and for a moment, dropped her perky, carefree demeanor for total honesty. "Okay, I guess, to be real honest . . . with the way things are, with Umbridge here, with her in charge . . . this place just doesn't feel like Hogwarts anymore. We're not learning what we should be learning. We're not free to do what should be doing. What's the point of being here when we're not even allowed to practice magic? At least not the kind of magic we should be doing anyway, and . . . I don't know I just . . . it feels like we can't breathe, here. And aside from not being able to see my friends on a daily basis, there's not really a lot I would miss. This castle, this place . . . it isn't Hogwarts. Not to me. And I'm over it."

The girls' puzzled expressions turned to understanding, because what Buffy had felt, they had felt it too. Hogwarts didn't feel like home anymore, it felt like a prison. Umbridge's rules suffocated the freedom and the wonder from this place. How could they fault Buffy for accepting her freedom when they had wanted to escape so many times themselves?

"But," Buffy said, the brightness returning to her voice. "And this is a big but, it doesn't I mean I'm going quietly into the night either."

There was that glint in her eye they had all been waiting for; the one they had expected her to have. After all, Buffy was not one to take things laying down. Not with Umbridge.

"Meaning?" Ginny asked.

Buffy closed the lid of her trunk and walked over to the opened doorway.

"Neville!" she called out.

"Y-yes?" he answered.

"Stairs, please!"

After a short pause, in which Buffy wasn't sure if he had understood, there came a loud wailing sound as the stairs to the girls' dormitory flattened out.

"Thank you!"

Buffy walked back to her bed, lifted her trunk with one hand, that Hermione immediately noticed was with too great an ease, and picked up Fred and George's present with the other.

"Hold this, please," she said to Susie, handing her the large box which Susie found to be surprising light. Buffy then went over to the doorway and sent the trunk flying down the flattened steps with a zoom. "Okay, think that's everything." She motioned Susie over, and they settled down on the edge of the doorway. Legs straight out in front of them. "Ready?" she asked Susie, and the girl nodded, grasping a tighter hold on the box on her lap. "See you lot later," Buffy said over her shoulder causing Ginny to roll her eyes at Buffy's choice of travel.

"Could'a just walked down the stairs," she said.

And with a push, Buffy and Susie slid over the flattened steps with great velocity and landed in a thump on the common room floor.

"Hello," Buffy said upon arriving at the bottom, to a room of curious onlookers.

"You could've just walked down the stairs," Neville said, helping Buffy and Susie up.

"That's what Ginny said, but, hey, where's the fun in that?"

Girls had started to stream down the slide behind her.

"She never listens," Ginny said, the first one to slide in and catching the remarks.

"And you're surprised?" Harry said.

"More like annoyed."

"Oh, sure, pick on the expelled," Buffy said.

"It's only right. Seeing as you get an early leave and we're still stuck here with old toad face," said Lee. "What'd you think? We'd throw a little pity party because you were leaving?"

With Fred and George gone, someone had to pick up the slack on not letting things get too serious. Luckily, Lee had spent enough time with the Twins to be just the person.

"Maybe," Buffy said, a small pout on her lips. "Guess I should know my audience, huh? I mean, when the year first started, you didn't want me to be here at all and now you've finally gotten rid of me."

A somber note came to the room. Self-deprecating jokes should really come with a laugh track.

"That's not funny," Ginny said.

It could've gone on from there. Sad faces and sadder goodbyes but that's not how they should be parting. It was supposed to be sunlight, not storm clouds. Besides, they shouldn't leave on bad, morose terms that's the way they started. And who wants to be redundant, really?

"And completely wrong," Lee said, as humorous as before. "It's not that we didn't want you to be in Gryffindor, we actually wanted you gone from Hogwarts completely."

That comment reset the mood and brightened things up again. Maybe Fred and George had rubbed off on people a little more than they realized, because people soon started taking their cues.

"Had a plan to drop you into the lake too," said Collin.

"But then you had to be all nice and everything," said Alicia.

"And switching over to our side," said Katie.

"So we got bored and started hating Umbridge instead," said Dean.

"And now . . . here you are, getting yourself expelled," Seamus said with a sigh. "At least Fred and George left in a bang."

"We expected more from you. Really, Buffy. Just walked away. The girl who jumped off the broom and verbally assaulted Umbridge time and again. Just letting Dungbridge get away with it this time. Letting yourself get ex-" Lee said.

"Who's letting her get away with it?" Buffy said, interrupting the tirade of _warm_ farewells.

There was a pause, and that's when Ginny's eye caught sight of the bright teal box in Susie's hands that Buffy had told her to hold and made seem strangely important. The very large box that appeared to weigh nothing. There was something underhanded going on.

"Buffy . . . what's in the box?" she asked.

Buffy smiled wickedly and took the box from Susie. She held it one hand while taking the handle of her trunk in the other.

"Well it's been fun, mocking me and all, but I've got a wind to catch. So, partings and laters and whatnot, and if you don't wanna miss the show. I suggest heading to your spots now."

Show?

Buffy made her way to the exit, but suddenly paused and turned around.

"Oh, Ginny, almost forgot, if you ever find that silver necklace, you know the one I've had lost since like forever, there's a ninety percent chance you won't, but if you do, could you hold onto it for me please?"

Ginny nodded and Buffy was on her way again with curios students following after.

_If you ever find that silver necklace, you know the one I've had lost since like forever_ . . . Harry's interest immediately peaked at those words. He put his hand into his pocket and wrapped it around the necklace; the one that he had grown attached to, and carried at times after he'd had those weird, haunting dreams of strange faces and strange places; he wondered if it was the same one Buffy had lost. There was a good chance it could be hers. He had found it at Grimmauld Place, where Buffy had apparently spent her summer. No one else who had stayed at Sirius's home had mentioned anything about losing a necklace. So maybe . . .

Harry grabbed a quick hold of Ginny's arm before she had a chance to leave.

"What necklace?" he asked.

Ginny's mind was so preoccupied with everything that was going on at the moment that she didn't even think to question Harry's peculiar interest of something as random as a necklace.

"Buffy lost this silver necklace with a cross on it a while back. She looked for it everywhere here when she had the chance, but didn't find it. She thinks she might have left it at home or you know at the _other_ place." Other meaning Grimmauld. "It means a great deal to her apparently. She always had an eye out for it."

As soon as Ginny finished speaking, she quickly followed everyone else and left the common room. Harry, who was left alone, pulled out the silver necklace with a cross on it from his pocket. What were the chances . . . ?

The moment Buffy walked through the portrait hole, she was met with even more students and faculty coming to see her off. One faculty member in particular.

"Come to say goodbye?" Buffy asked.

Umbridge frowned angrily, her posture tense as she stood on the stairs near the portrait hole.

"I've come to make sure you leave," she said.

"Afraid I might chain myself to the castle?"

"Actually I'm afraid of what _something_ like you will do at all. Violent creatures shouldn't be left unwatched," she said, adding a smirk to her words.

Umbridge made sure her voice was loud enough for everyone to hear. And hear they did. The phrasing went over many people's heads, but there were the clever few who understood exactly what she was talking about or had some idea. The ones who knew very well shared glances with their closest companions in the know, worried that Buffy's secret would be exposed. Another felt the pieces falling into place. The aversion to magical creatures. The superior strength. The cuts and bruises that were visible on more than one occasion. The picture was still a little blurry, but Hermione was very close to obtaining an image.

"You're right. We shouldn't," Buffy said, smiling. "Hope you don't mind," she said to Harry, who had come to join the show. "Accio Firebolt!"

Umbridge turned to face toward the dungeons. She couldn't possibly . . .

There was a loud BANG! and soon a Firebolt was soaring through the air. It headed straight to the Gryffindor entrance like a bullet, sweeping under Buffy and catching her on the handle where she sat _Bewitched_-style.

"How did you . . . you couldn't possibly . . . " Umbridge stuttered out as Buffy tied her trunk to the broom.

Once the trunk was tied and true, Buffy flew in closer to Umbridge's frightened face.

"Never underestimate some_one_ like me," she said in a low dangerous tone, flying close enough to cause Umbridge to stumble back.

With a brilliant smile, Buffy flew up toward the ceiling, with her special box in hand, swirling higher and higher and BANG!

The teal box had exploded into a rain of balloons, fireworks and music that blared out from an invisible source.

_I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation_

_You're living in the past, it's a new generation_

_A girl can do what she wants to do and that's what I'm gonna do_

_An' I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation_

Nothing was left of Buffy except a cloud of smoke, balloons and a rain of fireworks that soon proved to be not as innocent as they appeared.

The small sparks of fireworks soon began to grow brighter and larger before everyone's astonished eyes. Twisting and stretching through the air, forming into lions that soared over the students and staff in a spectacle of red and gold. Roars emanating from their wide mouths and bounced off the walls. They ran and jumped with a life of their own. Then the lions soon started clashing and fighting midair, causing mayhem as they exploded against each other to create even more of their kind and raining even more fiery sparks through the castle._  
An' I'm only doin' good when I'm havin' fun  
An' I don't have to please no one  
An' I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation_

_Oh no, not me_

Amidst the fighting lions, the multitude of colored balloons that had floated through the air soon began to pop and pop and pop, releasing neon colored slime of green, yellow and orange over the students and staff. There were shrieks and screams as everyone ran for cover. Clumsily bumping into one another, slipping on the slime, and dodging the lions that ran around them._  
Oh no, not me  
I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation  
I've never been afraid of any deviation  
An' I don't really care if ya think I'm strange  
I ain't gonna change_

_An' I'm never gonna care 'bout my bad reputation_

Umbridge tried covering her head with her arms, but the slime still managed to splatter over her. Dripping over her eyes and into her mouth. She quickly moved up the stairs, her feet slipping over the substance so often she had to hold on to the railing, leaving her head uncovered and seeming to attract more slime. As she moved up the steps she heard a sudden large roar behind her and when she turned around the largest of the lions was pawing the air below as if it were dirt, readying himself for the run. Umbridge shrieked in fear and ran up the stairs as fast she could, heading to the Gryffindor portrait hole, it unfortunately being the closest thing to shelter.

"Let me in! Let me in!" she screamed at the Fat Lady, turning around briefly to check on the lion that was now in a slow, menacing run toward her.

"Password?" the Fat Lady asked calmly.

"How dare you? I am the Headmistress! You will let me in this INSTANT!"

The Fat Lady let out a bored sigh.

"No password. No entry. We mustn't break school rules now, must we?" she said and then folded her hands upon her knees and closed her eyes. All the students were safe inside the common room, she had done her job. What business was it of hers if the Headmistress had no clue about how to run her school?

"Let me in! Now! Open this-"

The lion growled closer than before, and shakily, Umbridge turned around. Her eyes went wide and she screamed as it leapt forward with a ferocious growl. She then screwed her eyes and covered her face just as the terrifying lion burst into tiny sparks that showered all over her. Tiny sparks that reacted against the slime and caused little puffs of smoke to emanate off her clothes. Her expensive, pretty, pink clothes.

When Umbridge removed her hands and opened her eyes again she was relieved she had been left unharmed. When she looked out before her, her hands immediately balled at her sides and her mouth clenched tightly, at the mess Buffy Summers had left behind. The slime that covered nearly every inch of the castle. The lions that still fought mid-air. The music that still blared out. The perfect order of the castle was turned into complete chaos.

As she stood there amidst the madness, Dolores Umbridge would not let her pride dwindle. It would be said and she would deny it, it would be seen but she wouldn't admit to it, not even to herself, but in the end, in the battle between Buffy Summers and Dolores Umbridge, it would be clear that Dolores Umbridge had been defeated.

"FILCH!" she screamed at the top of her lungs to the only person who would lift a finger to help her, to the only rope out of the chaos, and the poor caretaker came running with his bucket and mop in hand.

The students inside the Gryffindor common room, as in every other common room, tried conjuring the neon slime away but it wouldn't budge. Oh, it could be wiped off sure, but it wasn't like wiping off milk. The slime was thick and sticky nearing the consistency of chewing gum but a lot less gummy, and almost as difficult to remove.

"See, this is why I always thought she hated us," said Ron, grabbing and pulling at the slime in his hair.

"I'm beginning to agree with you on that," said Harry, having no better luck with his orange substance.

Hermione grimaced as she gently pulled at the green slime on her clothes. "How did she even . . . ?"

There was a giggle. A small female giggle that derived from Ginny Weasley. Then the giggle turned into a laugh so hearty it sent her sliding to the floor. And then Neville started to laugh, quietly at first and then louder and louder until he was holding onto his side. Luna's tinkling laughter joined the chorus, and although it wasn't as boisterous as the rest, it was filled with as much amusement as the others.

"What're you three laughing at?" asked Ron.

"It's just . . . it's . . . " Ginny tried to speak but found it difficult to even breathe. "Sorry . . . it's just . . . I can't . . . I can't even . . . "

"What's so funny?" Harry asked.

Everyone looked at Ginny, Neville and Luna wondering if they had gone insane. Or worse, if this was some sort of reaction to the slime, and then they began to worry.

"All of this . . . it's just . . . Buffy _would_ leave like this," she finally managed to get out, her laughs calming down.

"Like what?" Harry asked.

A few bits of laughter sputtered out as Ginny rested limply against the wall.

"Think about it," she said languidly and then cleared her throat. "When she came back, it caused nothing but chaos and confusion; of course she'd do it when she left."

Everyone looked around at each other. Some angry. Some annoyed. Some all around confused. Drop Buffy Summers in the middle of the room and it would be like the first day of school again.

"Fred and George had to have helped her though," Ginny continued, "She couldn't've done it on her own. Not without the right tools. But still . . . it's pretty funny."

"All right, ha, ha, now how the bloody hell do we get this stuff off?" asked Ron.

Ginny felt her laughs boiling up once more at the yellow and orange slime dripping down her brother's face, tempted to say 'Ron, you've got egg on your face.'

"No idea," she said and burst into laughter again.

* * *

"Expelled?"

Buffy sank deeper into her chair; maybe if she sank deep enough it would swallow her and her mother would be so sad to lose her baby girl that she'd forget about the whole thing.

"Third time's the charm?" Buffy said meekly.

"Third?" Sirius asked.

Remus began to tick them off on his fingers.

"Hemery. Sunnydale. Hogwarts."

"Oh, right," Sirius nodded. "Gotta be some sort of record. You know, covering all the bases. Muggle. Supernatural . . . " He felt Joyce's glare in his direction and his humor started slipping away. "Ma-gi-cal."

The almighty glower of Joyce Summers had appeared shortly after Buffy had arrived at Grimmauld Place a few days earlier than expected. The moment Buffy made her presence known, broom and trunk in hand, Joyce glared, Remus and Sirius questioned, and she was pressed for answers.

"It wasn't my fault," she said, defending herself, and their disbelief would've been a blow to her esteem if it wasn't for the fact that it was her fault, and so she caved. "Okay, it was, but only because I volunteered."

. . . what?

Buffy sure had a knack for making less sense of things that were already senseless. Which was why Joyce sat herself down and took a deep breath, knowing that this was going to take some very patient understanding.

"Okay, just-just start from the beginning."

_

* * *

_

Don't be a git. You couldn't get rid of me that easily even if you tried. Expect to hear from me soon.

The note was on his bed, waiting for him, knowing he would need it. At least she wrote this time, though when was a head scratcher. Had she been planning to get expelled? No, he saw the look on her face when the expulsion had come. It was definitely not planned. But Buffy did work in mysterious ways, Draco knew that for sure.

He folded up the note and stuffed it underneath his pillow. It was a reminder that Buffy would not disappear into thin air this time, and it comforted him.

As it turned out, all that was needed to remove the slime – slime, really Buffy? That's all she could think of?– was a bit of soap and water. Not too difficult. Only problem was the waiting to step into the next available shower, which was in itself, a little extra cruelty Buffy had unintentionally brought upon the occupants of the castle. Draco, being Draco, moved to the head of the line, of course. No way was he waiting to go in after someone had already rinsed their dirt and slime onto the shower floor.

After being cleaned and feeling refreshed, Draco intended to spend his leisure in the common room, but with the noise, the whining, Pansy's whining, everything grated on his nerves. _It was slime, get over it!_ He needed to get out. Take in a little peace of mind before bed if he wanted to calm his easily rattled nerves.

The air was crisp outside, and Draco breathed it in deeply. He was languidly making his way through the courtyard when he heard a sudden sniffle. A tiny little sniffle he would usually ignore. If he hadn't paused right by it, that is. He turned to the sound and found a little girl with dark hair sitting against the archway with her knees against her chest. Whatever, it wasn't his problem. He moved on again when the sniffle came louder. He didn't know why, but he stopped. Why did he stop? He turned around and looked at the girl more carefully. Wait a minute, wasn't she . . . that was the first year Buffy hung around with. The overly confident one Buffy had become so attached to.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked.

Susie sniffled again and looked at him, her eyes shiny and red from crying. Draco didn't know why, but he felt something plucking at his heartstrings at the sight of it. He didn't like it, her looking like that, and it made him very uncomfortable at the realization of the feeling.

He was mean. Every time Susie saw him, he was mocking someone, but he never picked on her like he did on everyone else. He pretty much ignored her whenever he came around Buffy while she was there or even when she wasn't. Susie guessed it was because Draco and Buffy were friends, and he didn't want to upset her. But Susie knew he wasn't a nice person at all, however, no one else would listen. They were too busy cleaning themselves up.

"It's my fault," Susie said, her voice hushed.

"What?"

"It's my fault," she repeated a little louder. "If Buffy hadn't taken my place, she would still be here."

Taken her place?

"What are you talking about?"

"In the Hall. It was me. I-It wasn't mine, but Umbridge . . . Buffy took my place. I should've been the one to get expelled."

Draco thought back and remembered that Susie had been the first year who had that stupid Quibbler. The original intended for the expulsion, before Buffy had so selflessly taken her place. So this girl was the reason why Buffy had been kicked out of school. The reason she was no longer here. The source of all the trouble.

Draco should've been angry, irritated, even a little upset, but he couldn't help but smile. Buffy was too good for her own good sometimes. If Draco hadn't known her so well, of how stubborn she could be, he would've definitely given Susie more reasons to cry.

He didn't know why exactly, but he walked into the archway and leaned against it casually. Unable to leave the girl the way she was. Though he didn't intend to spend much time on it, or why he even cared, either.

"It's not your fault," he said.

Susie immediately stopped sniffling, believing she had heard wrong. Surprised he wasn't mocking her, blamed her for what happened. She was the reason why one of his friends got expelled. He was cruel to everyone. Why would he try to comfort her?

"S-sorry?" she said.

"Buffy gets herself into these situations. No one put a wand to her head. If she wanted to take your place, no one and nothing could've changed her mind."

"But . . . "

"It's been done and it can't be changed," he said cutting off her words rudely. "Besides, Buffy wouldn't want you blaming yourself, so stop it. Get over it already."

This was the crudeness she had been expecting. He wasn't being nice at all he was just . . . well she didn't what he was doing.

"Are you always this rude?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.

"Got you to stop crying, didn't I?"

Susie glared and Draco shrugged it off. She finally gave up on her angry look after realizing it was useless and rested her chin on her knees. No one that rude would be somewhat decent for no reason, right? But it was helpful, what he had said, almost comforting, even if that comfort was more abrasive than she would have liked.

They stayed outside, silent in deep thought even after the sky began to dim. It was nice and quiet in the courtyard with the air so fresh and calming. Just a little longer . . . just a little bit longer and they'd go back to the noise again.

* * *

"You're really here!"

"Knew you could do it!"

Fred and George came barging into the kitchen at Grimmauld Place. They launched themselves at Buffy who was in the process of eating her meal and soon began to cough as a piece of chicken went down the wrong pipe at her surprise.

"She just got here and already you're trying to kill her," said Sirius handing Buffy some water.

"She'll be all right," said Fred taking a seat.

"What's a piece of chicken against a Slayer?" said George following suit.

Buffy now started to choke on the water that was supposed to be helping the lodged piece of chicken. Food seemed to putting up a fight today.

"Always so antsy," Fred said, shaking his head.

"Nobody's here, who's gonna hear us?" asked George.

"Besides these three."

"Who've known since forever."

"At least since you ratted us out to Dumbledore and the Order."

"Never could keep a secret, could you?"

"That's . . . " She cleared her throat. "That's not why . . . "

"Then what is it?"

She cleared her throat again. A little rougher this time.

"I swallowed my water too fast."

They gave her an 'are you kidding us?' look.

"That's it?"

"Sounded more dire than that."

"Yeah, almost choking to death can be a real bore," she said.

Why did they have to make such a great big deal about everything? Sometimes a bad drink of water was only a bad drink of water. Nothing else.

"Better now?" Remus asked.

"Yes. Very."

Now that Buffy was safe and sound from the bad chicken and water, the Twins wanted to hear about the reason they had come in the first place.

"So how'd it go?" George asked, excitedly.

Buffy immediately smiled, knowing exactly to what he was referring to.

"Excellent," she said. "Caught a peek before actually leaving. Castle was in chaos."

"Wicked."

"Knew if we gave you the right tools, you'd know how to use them."

"That's why we left you the present."

"We always knew you'd be next."

Mother's intuition seemed to be sharper when something deviant was involved and Joyce felt hers rile up.

"What present?" she asked.

Buffy, Fred and George felt their excitement dampened and couldn't help but share guilty expressions.

"Uh, oh," Sirius said, knowing some sort of prank was underfoot. Having been on the giving of them so many times. "What did you do?"

They fidgeted, as guilty parties tend to do. Fred and George were used to their mum's angry reactions about pulling pranks, but they had no idea of how Joyce would react. Buffy's violent temper had to come from somewhere, didn't it? So they kept silent and let Buffy confess; a parent would go much easier on their own child . . . hopefully.

The Twins didn't look like they would 'fess up anytime soon for their hand in the debacle. _Chickens_. It was up to Buffy, and she knew her mother would not react well. But it's not like they'd kick Buffy out of school again for it. Might as well get it over with. And once she finished, she could just Apparate right out of there. See, a plan and everything.

"Well . . . okay, don't be mad," she said.

Joyce clenched her jaw. Those words never preceded anything good. But Buffy had already been kicked out of school, what's the worst that could have happened?

* * *

Note: **waves white flag** So sorry, two month delay makes me a bad fanfic writer :( Many factors contributed to this though, see I brought excuses. My computer, my only computer, broke down on me and I had to have the power supply replaced, which took shipping and handling days, then the instillation and so on, but as you can see its back to normal. Then, came the sicky part, where I was sick for a few days, and felt like doing nothing but gorging on NyQuil and sleeping everything away. And last, but definitely not least, came the very lack of inspiration, which I hate admitting to, that I've been having lately. I was so adamant on finishing this before HP DH came out, but yeah didn't happen :( But I'm praying for the inspiration monkey to put down the NyQuil and get hoppin' again soon, cause I'm almost done. Only got a few more chapters to go yay!

On a side note . . . how amazingly awesome was Deathly Hallows? Saw it twice in the theater and a couple more online and I'm just so in love with it :) However, I must admit that I was not completely please with it as my Neville only showed up once and said five words. FIVE WORDS! And that was it. Ginny, well, my Ginny is not DH Ginny but that's a whole different story. And Luna was perfect. Love Evanna Lynch. And trust me, I've fitted Buffy in there a few times in my mind, especially in the Battle over Little Whinging and the wedding scene ;)


	65. Chapter 65

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

The day was bright and sunny. The castle was clean. A handful of sparkly lions still roamed the grounds, but were quickly fizzling out. Kids were playing. People were laughing. And Neville didn't care for any of it.

"I miss her already," he said, miserably.

He sat near the lake with Ginny and Luna, and looked over the water that appeared murkier today.

"So do I," Ginny said, giving a despondent sigh. "Can't believe it all happened only yesterday. Seems so long ago now."

Neville nodded absentmindedly and looked away from the water to his shoes, where he soon began to fiddle with laces. His throat feeling thick as he remembered the one thing that depressed him the most about Buffy leaving.

"She didn't...she didn't even say goodbye."

No, she hadn't. Buffy had rushed out of Hogwarts like her tail was on fire without so much as a look back. Without so much as a wave. Ginny could understand why, leaving your friends couldn't be easy and saying goodbye could be hard, but it still hurt her feelings nonetheless.

"I know, but I-I don't think she wanted to. It must've been too hard for her," she said, hoping that saying the words out loud would comfort not only Neville but herself as well. "But we'll see her again. Once school's out."

Neville wasn't too sure about that or about any of Ginny's words.

"Luna? What do you think?"

Luna stopped her sky-gazing at the mention of her name and slowly focused her attention on Neville and Ginny.

"It's not easy saying goodbye to friends. And Buffy was in a bit of rush. But Ginny's right. We'll see her again. Sooner than we expect, I think."

"What makes you say that?" asked Ginny.

"Just a hunch."

Luna looked up at the sky again, admiring the soft clouds that rolled by, wondering if anyone else noticed the shapes they made. Of the one that looked like a ball. Or the one that twisted like snake. Or the one that was long and very narrow. Clouds were funny things. Not many people seemed to notice the warnings they often gave of storms to come.

"You've been staring at that thing for the past two hours. It's gonna grow legs and walk out of the room if you keep at it," said Ron.

Ron was right, not about the leg part, of course, but the fact that Harry had been staring at the same blank parchment for two hours and it hadn't brought him any success. Frustrated, he threw down the quill and ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair.

"It's useless," he muttered.

Ron knew what Harry was trying to do, despite the fact that he hadn't said what it was. Harry had been distracted all day, playing with a quill in his hand, and when he pulled out a piece of parchment, Ron knew what had been on his mind. So Ron closed his book and decided to ease his friend's thoughts. Either that or let him not study and fail his Potions OWL.

"I'm sure she's all right. She's home now. Away from OWLs, Umbridge and...I think that's the worst of it."

Harry smiled a small little smile.

"Crossed yourself off the list then?"

Ron's cheeks turned red as he got flustered.

"Didn't say that...exactly," he said, clearing his throat and fidgeting in his seat. Then, as he thought back to the evening before, the side of his mouth twitched up. "Besides, a girl who can cause Umbridge all that headache and leave with a prank like that can't be all bad right? How did she get the broom out of the dungeons anyway? Wasn't it supposed to be guarded by trolls or something?"

"Maybe, probably not. You know how those rumours get started. Someone hears something and it gets blown out of proportion without solid evidence."

Ron's cheeks flamed up again and he reopened his book.

"Right, so potions?" he said.

Harry chuckled and picked up his own book, giving up on his letter to Buffy.

"Where's Hermione, by the way?" he asked as he flipped to the appropriate chapter.

It was a stupid question to ask, and he knew it as soon as he said it, because the moment he saw Ron's expression, Harry knew exactly where she would be.

"Library," they said at the same time.

In the library and currently sitting at a table in the Magical Creatures section, of all places.

Hermione had looked through every book she could find on vampires, demons, werewolves, dark creatures, Muggles, Ministry, and whatever could pertain to her research. Her eyes skimming the pages for two words alone: Vampire Slayer.

Whatever information she found, she made a note of. A slayer's power, abilities, recorded battles, timelines...locations...

_...known as the Master...ruler of Order of Aurelius...unsuccessful attempt in opening the Hellmouth...leveling the town and left trapped beneath...defeated by the current Vampire Slayer..._Current Vampire Slayer...where was the Hellmouth again?..._Sunnydale, California... _Sunnydale. According to her knowledge, didn't Buffy stay in a town called Sunnydale before returning to Hogwarts?

Hermione looked through the texts and her notes again; searching for any names or descriptions of the Slayer in Sunnydale. But there was nothing. Of course there's not, according to the books, a Slayer's identity must be kept a secret at all times for their own protection, which means they're names or any direct descriptions must've been omitted from any and all books in the library. _Wonderful_. Still, Hermione had found some very useful information, adding to her knowledge, and given Buffy's abilities, plus the time she was gone from Hogwarts and living in Sunnydale, it appeared as though something more than coincidence was in play.

Closing and organizing all the books around her, Hermione pulled her notes in front of her and reviewed them. As she went over some key factors, she paused on the Watcher's Council. There had been mention of the Ministry of Magic being aware of the Council and she wondered how much Umbridge really knew of Buffy, given the fact that she had called her a 'dark creature.' Then it got her wondering who else could know. Dumbledore? McGonagall? Sirius? Remus? The Order? Ginny? Neville? Draco?...Harry? No, Harry would've said something. Wouldn't he? He had kept his friendship with Buffy a secret for such a long time, so maybe – no, he'd acted just as surprised as everyone when Buffy jumped off her broom and he would've just acted differently somehow...wouldn't he?

Hermione's head began to hurt as her trust and loyalty fought with her logic. Now she understood why Slayer identities had to be kept a secret, things were much simpler that way.

Pansy had been fidgety and jumpy since the night before. Draco hadn't spoken to her since Buffy had gotten expelled. Didn't even look in her direction. Did he know? No, there was no possible way unless Daphne, Tracy or Millicent opened up their big mouths, but they wouldn't. It wasn't loyalty to Pansy that kept their mouth shut, it was the fact that they had nothing to gain if they did. Why bother with revealing the truth when they couldn't reap any benefits from it?

"Funny, isn't it? How one paper can cause so much trouble."

Pansy jumped at the sudden voice behind her. It was late at night and it had been quiet in the common room where she had been sitting in a chair by the fireplace, lost in thought.

"W-what?" she asked, turning to her left and finding Theodore standing beside her. "Oh, y-yeah. Tr-trouble."

Out of the corner of his eye Theodore saw Pansy's legs fidget faster. She really was pathetic at times.

"It's really foolish for someone to just leave it out in the open like that. Knowing it was banned," he said.

"Yes, well, f-first years aren't the s-smartest o-of people."

He walked over to the fireplace and rested his back against the mantel. His knowing eyes looking at her disdainfully.

"Yes. First years."

Pansy felt her blood grow hotter as it flowed through her veins. Her face becoming flushed. Her eyes skittish as she avoided looking at him, and her hands and legs couldn't remain still. Why was he staring at her? He couldn't possibly know. There's no way. He was just trying to intimidate her. But it won't work. He doesn't have any proof. He couldn't know. So why did he keep looking at her like that?

"Please don't tell Draco!" she blurted out.

Her hands flew to her mouth and her eyes nearly popped out of her sockets.

When no one paid much attention to a person, that person had a tendency to pay great attention to everything else. Yesterday, while everyone was watching Umbridge and Buffy, Theodore had spotted a too happy Pansy. He watched her closely as the smug look on her face never flinched into any look of surprise at the unfolding events. It was as if she had been expecting Buffy's expulsion. Then he heard some very curious words later that day between Tracey and Millicent, '_Pansy got lucky this time_.', '_I'll say, it worked better than she could've imagined_.' Didn't take too long or too much to figure out it all out, all he needed was Pansy to slip up, and slip up she did.

"No, I won't tell your precious Draco," he said, a condescending smile on his lips.

"Th-than what are you g-gonna do? Wh-who are you gonna tell?"

"I'm not gonna tell anybody anything," he said with a shrug. "It's none of my business. And it's not like Umbridge would reinstate Buffy and expel you if she were to find out." Theodore saw Pansy's body relax, and he rolled his eyes. She was an idiot. He placed a hand on each arm of the chair and leaned in menacingly. "Don't think you've won, Pansy. School's over in two more years. If this is how you solve your problems, you might as well lock yourself up in Azkaban now."

He moved back, looking at her as if she were the smallest thing on the planet, and he walked away, towards the entrance of the boy's dormitory, where he passed a certain someone who had been listening in the wings. Oh, the funny humour of karma. Theodore paused for a moment by the intruder of his conversation with Pansy, and smiled smugly before continuing his path. No, he won't tell her precious Draco, but it wasn't his fault if kismet had caused him to find out on his own.

Pansy's nerves rattled again. How dare he...how could Theodore...she put her hands over her face. Her heart pounding away at a five thousands beats per minute. She was too tired, too rattled to worry about Theodore anymore tonight. She didn't want to think about anything anymore. It would be no use trying to sleep, but she couldn't stay out here all night. Taking a deep breath, she lifted herself from the chair and, as she turned to walk, she saw something that made her heart stop.

Draco was standing near the entry to the boy's dormitory.

Pansy had seen Draco angry. Yell at someone until his face became red. Torment someone he didn't like until they cried. When Draco was mad, he made sure everyone knew it. When someone was his victim, he gave them his full attention. And that's why Pansy did the things she did. She sometimes annoyed Draco for the sake of his attention alone. She didn't care if it was anger, annoyance, any acknowledgment was all that mattered. Any reaction he would give was fine.

"Draco," she said, her voice pleading.

He stood silent. He didn't look angry or annoyed. His hands weren't balled up into fists and his jaw wasn't clenched. His face was smooth. As if he didn't care. As if getting angry at her was pointless. As if she didn't matter.

Pansy took a step forward and the moment she moved, Draco turned around and went back to the dormitory. And Pansy stood alone. All she wanted was Draco. She had done everything, all of it, so he could remain at her side. So Buffy wouldn't keep pulling him away until he was gone completely.

It was a shame that Pansy Parkinson never realized that she never had Draco to begin with.

The next morning Draco ignored Pansy at all costs. Even when she stood directly in his path and tried to speak to him, he either sidestepped her or if he couldn't, he pointedly ignored her until he could. At breakfast, he sat as far away from her as possible. With no appetite and not being able to stand Draco's indifference, Pansy left the Hall. It wasn't fair, shouldn't he be mad at Buffy? It was her fault. Buffy was the one who had caused Pansy to get her expelled. If Buffy had just stayed away from Hogwarts, where she belonged, none of this would've happened. Draco wouldn't be mad and everything would've been perfect. Everything was all Buffy's fault and Pansy was left with the blame, again. It wasn't fair. And as she stomped out of the Hall, everyone moved out of her way as they had learned to never poke an angry bulldog.

Ginny was trying to comfort Neville as best she could. With Buffy no longer around, Neville's jitters about his OWLs seemed to have increased. It was the first time he was going to face his exams without Buffy's constant support. It was only natural that he would be nervous.

"It'll be all right, Neville. You've been doing wonderfully this far, and with Snape not there, I'm sure you'll do just as well in your Potions exam today."

"Th-thank you, G-Ginny," he stuttered, out of politeness more than anything.

"It's true, Neville. You've always been very good with plants and have gotten much better with potions. You'll do splendidly," Luna said, and placed a hand over his, and for a reason he couldn't quite yet understand, he felt better.

"Th-thanks, Luna."

Neville couldn't eat a thing. His breakfast was left untouched the entire time it sat on his plate. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _You'll do great, Neville. Just relax and it'll all come back to you. You'll see._ He'd heard Buffy say it to him before every exam and now he needed to believe it even more. He was going to face one of his most difficult subjects and without his best friend.

He had to do great. Definitely. He studied hard enough for it and all he needed to do now was relax. He'll do great. Yes, he must. His nerves eased a little more and then the bell rang. Neville's eyes popped open and he buried his hands into his hair.

"Oh, my god. I'm going to fail my OWLs."

As the day wore on, Potions came and went, and Ginny was right, without Snape, the examination wasn't as bad as Neville had feared. He would at least get an Acceptable mark and that was just fine. It was a little frightening, taking his first OWL alone, without Buffy's encouraging presence around, but he did it. Neville was quite proud of himself for that. Now only the rest of the exams to go.

"What are you doing in here?"

Buffy looked away from the Black Family tapestry that had so captured her attention, and at the current Black Family member standing in the doorway.

"Admiring fine art," she said.

Sirius crinkled his nose.

"If I didn't question your taste before, I definitely question it now," he said, walking into the room and coming to stand by her.

Buffy smiled and looked back to her original source of attention.

"It's kinda fascinating, really. Your whole history's practically all here. Where it comes from. Where it is. Where it goes."

"How demented it all is."

Buffy gave him a look and then continued on.

"Not everyone has it all laid it for them you know. Some people don't even know who's beyond their grandparents. They don't have any idea of where they come from. Of who they really are. Of what makes them different from everyone else. Why they were picked to be this way."

There was a sense of regret noted in her voice and a strange mixture of inquisitiveness and fear in her eyes.

"We're not talking about family lines anymore are we?" he asked.

Buffy's gaze lowered to the cup of tea in her hands and watched the wisps of smoke as she talked.

"When I found out I was the Slayer, the only questions I had were: Why me? Why this? Why now? I never really thought about where it came from. How it all got started. And I'm sure there are books that can explain some stuff, but...it scares me." She looked away from her cup and to Sirius's fatherly, concerned face. "What if what I find out isn't what I want to know? The Slayer line, as far as I know, goes back aeons. Almost as long as the Earth's been around. But how did it get started? I mean, where did all these powers come from? There's just so much we don't know and sometimes..."

Buffy gripped the cup tighter and paused; it was a natural reaction when she had to admit vulnerability. It was as if she was giving herself a subconscious chance to back out and change the subject. To protect herself from being seen as weak. But in instances where she was addressing friends and family, by those who knew her Slayer secret and accepted it fully, her protective wall eventually came down.

"It feels dark. That part of me. It's like the kind of feeling I get when demons are around. And it makes me wonder if maybe the reason a Slayer can detect demons is because...maybe that's where the power comes from. Maybe a Slayer has more darkness than good."

If Buffy couldn't look at Sirius before, she definitely couldn't force herself to look at him now. He could tell by the small actions she made. Her face turning away from him. Her shoulders hunched inwardly as if she were ashamed by she had said. But Sirius would have none of it.

Gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder and stared directly at the profile of her face.

"Buffy, even if that's true, and it may not be, it doesn't change who you are. The Slayer part of you is just that, a part. It doesn't define you anymore than being a witch does. It's the choices we make and what we decide to do with the abilities we have that shape us. Voldemort was human when he made his choices. So was every Death Eater when they made theirs. And, even if a Slayer's power came from a demon, from darkness, look at all the good you've done because you made the choice to do good. And if our actions define us, you're as good a person as they come. Slayer, witch or not."

It was comforting, and it softened her fear of being seen as less than human, but what it couldn't extinguish was the other fear that being a Slayer had brought on ever since she realized why she had been chosen to be Voldemort's puppet during her second year.

Hesitantly, she raised her eyes to him and gone was the vulnerability, to be replaced by a hardness one needed to face and admit a truth.

"Sirius, everyone knows why Voldemort is out for Harry, but...do you know why he's after me?"

The mere thought of it caused Sirius's face to harden in mixture of anger and trepidation. Those who knew of Buffy's secrets, of her being the Slayer, of Voldemort's possession of her as a child, knew why she had been chosen, even before Buffy herself realized it. Voldemort's ultimate fear was that of death, and he sought any means to prevent it. And once he figured out the history of the Slayer, of Buffy's potential, he latched on and refused to let her out of his sight until he got what he wanted.

"Yes, and to be perfectly honest, it scares me not knowing what he'll do to get it." The features of his face softened, and he placed both hands on her shoulders. His usually secretive eyes now became open and honest. "You may be the Slayer, but no matter what, even if you don't think you need it, I will always try to protect you, Buffy."

Her heart swelled and the wall came down again. There weren't enough words to express, to think of how much Sirius had grown to mean to her. He was family. His heart was bigger than anyone would ever know and his kindness was greater than that.

Through it all, through everything he's been through, his warmth never left him. His hope grew stronger every day. And Buffy loved him. This world, her world, was much better just because he was in it.

"Come on, your mum's been looking for you," he said, dropping his arms and jerking his head to the doorway. "She thinks you've been avoiding her."

The tea, along with the cup, had grown cold, but Buffy felt warm and toasty all over. And the brightness of her eyes and demeanor returned again.

"I have," she said, boldfaced. "Seeing as she's still mad."

"Joyce isn't mad she's just...concerned."

"Why? I was already expelled when I pulled that prank; it's not like they can do it again."

Sirius wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her out of the room.

"She thinks it may ruin your chances of getting reinstated when the time comes."

"But Umbridge – "

"May not be there forever. At least we hope not." Then Sirius remembered the murderous look in Joyce's eyes as Buffy and the Twins spilled the beans of Umbridge's horrid treatment of the students. "And definitely not if your mother ever gets her hands on her."

The OWLs were now dwindling down. Less than a handful to suffer through and it would finally be over. A great relief to everyone.

The OWL for Care of Magical Creatures on Tuesday was uneventful. A written exam and then a practical in the forest. Hagrid was a little nervous about how well his students had done, watching through the window of his cabin during their exam, but just as Harry was leaving, having finished, he passed by Hagrid's hut and gave him two thumbs up; and some of Hagrid's worry lines smoothed over.

Divination and Astronomy came Wednesday, and although Divination and the written portion of Astronomy went smoothly, the same could not be said for the second part of the Astronomy Exam.

On top of the Astronomy Tower, the Fifth-Years watched the skies Wednesday night, writing down the appropriate constellations and planets on their worksheets, when there came a loud BANG from the grounds. Several people cried, 'Ouch!' when they poked themselves in the face with the ends of their telescopes as they hastened to see what was going on below.

Hagrid was surrounded by Umbridge and five aurors, all of whom, judging by the tiny threads of red light they were casting in his direction, seemed to be attempting to Stun him.

Nobody was paying attention to their examination anymore. Jets of red light were flying about beside Hagrid's cabin, yet somehow they seemed to be bouncing off him as he fought back. Cries and yells echoed across the grounds; a man yelled, "Be reasonable, Hagrid!"

Hagrid roared, "Reasonable be damned, yeh won' take me like this, Dawlish!"

Fang was attempting to defend Hagrid, leaping repeatedly at the wizards surrounding him until a Stunning Spell caught him and he fell to the ground. Hagrid gave a howl of fury, lifted the culprit bodily from the ground and threw him; the man flew what looked like ten feet and did not get up again. Hermione gasped, both hands over her mouth; Harry looked round at Ron and saw that he, too, was looking scared. None of them had ever seen Hagrid in a real temper before.

"Look!" squealed Parvati, pointing to the foot of the castle where the front doors had opened; more light was spilling out on to the dark lawn and a single long black shadow was now rippling across the lawn, sprinting towards the battle beside Hagrid's cabin.

"How dare you!" the figure shouted as she ran. "How dare you!"

"It's McGonagall!" whispered Hermione.

"Leave him alone! Alone, I say!" said Professor McGonagall's voice through the darkness. "On what grounds are you attacking him? He has done nothing, nothing to warrant such -"

Hermione, Parvati and Lavender all screamed. No fewer than four Stunners had shot from the figures around the cabin toward Professor McGonagall. Halfway between cabin and castle the red beams collided with her; for a moment she looked luminous, illuminated by an eerie red glow, then was lifted right off her feet, landed hard on her back, and moved no more.

"Galloping gargoyles!" shouted Professor Tofty, who seemed to have forgotten the exam completely. "Not so much as a warning! Outrageous behavior!"

"COWARDS!" bellowed Hagrid, his voice carrying clearly to the top of the tower, and several lights flickered back on inside the castle. "RUDDY COWARDS! HAVE SOME O' THAT - AN' THAT -"

Hagrid took two massive swipes at his closest attackers and had knocked them out cold. Hagrid doubled over, and for a moment it had been thought that he had finally been overcome by a spell. But, on the contrary, the next moment Hagrid was standing again with Fang's limp body draped around his shoulders.

"Get him, get him!" screamed Umbridge, but her remaining helper seemed highly reluctant to go within reach of Hagrid and was backing away so fast he tripped over one of his unconscious colleagues and fell over. Hagrid had turned and begun to run with Fang still hung around his neck. Umbridge sent one last Stunning Spell after him but it missed; and Hagrid, running full-pelt towards the distant gates, disappeared into the darkness.

There were long minutes of quivering silence as everybody gazed open-mouthed into the grounds. Then Professor Tofty's voice said feebly, "Um...five minutes to go, everybody."

When the end of the exam came at last, everyone forced their telescopes haphazardly back into their holders and dashed back down the spiral staircase. None of the students were going to bed; they were all talking loudly and excitedly at the foot of the stairs about what they had witnessed.

"That evil woman!" gasped Hermione, who seemed to be having difficulty talking due to rage. "Trying to sneak up on Hagrid in the dead of night!"

"She clearly wanted to avoid another scene like Trelawney's," said Ernie Macmillan sagely, squeezing over to join them.

"Hagrid did well, didn't he?" said Ron, who looked more alarmed than impressed. "How come all the spells bounced off him?"

"It'll be his giant blood," said Hermione shakily. "It's very hard to Stun a giant, they're like trolls, really tough...but poor Professor McGonagall...four Stunners straight in the chest and she's not exactly young, is she?"

"Dreadful, dreadful," said Ernie, shaking his head pompously. "Well, I'm off to bed. Night, all."

People around them were drifting away, still talking excitedly about what they had just seen.

"At least they didn't get to take Hagrid off to Azkaban," said Ron. "I 'spect he's gone to join Dumbledore, hasn't he?"

"I suppose so," said Hermione. "Oh, this is awful, I really thought Dumbledore would be back before long, but now we've lost Hagrid too."

They traipsed back to the Gryffindor common room to find it full. The commotion out in the grounds had woken several people. Seamus and Dean, who had arrived ahead of Harry, Ron and Hermione, were now telling everyone what they had seen and heard from the top of the Astronomy Tower.

"But why sack Hagrid now?" asked Angelina Johnson, shaking her head. "It's not like

Trelawney; he's been teaching much better than usual this year!"

"Umbridge hates part-humans," said Hermione bitterly, flopping down into an armchair. "She was always going to try and get Hagrid out."

Neville glanced over at Ginny and when he saw her expression, he knew she had come to the same understanding. It was much too late and much too crowded to speak about it now, but, knowing what they did, they knew the subject would be brought up the first chance they got.

"And she thought Hagrid was putting Nifflers in her office," piped up Katie Bell.

"Oh, blimey," said Lee Jordan, covering his mouth. "It's me who's been putting the Nifflers in her office. Fred and George left me a couple; I've been levitating them in through her window."

"She'd have sacked him anyway," said Dean. "He was too close to Dumbledore."

"That's true," said Harry, sinking into an armchair beside Hermione's.

"I just hope Professor McGonagall's all right," said Lavender tearfully.

"They carried her back up to the castle, we watched through the dormitory window," said Colin Creevey. "She didn't look very well."

"Madam Pomfrey will sort her out," said Alicia Spinnet firmly. "She's never failed yet."

It was nearly four in the morning before the common room cleared and it was a miracle anyone one of them was able to get up the next morning.

Neville and Ginny spent their breakfast in the fourth-year-girl's dormitory. Nibbling on their fruit and toast as they discussed what couldn't be discussed last night.

"Do you think...maybe...that's why Umbridge hated Buffy so much?" Ginny asked. "I mean, technically, according to what Mr. Giles told Buffy...by Ministry law she's..."

"Only part human," Neville said, then bitterly, hatefully added, "And part..._creature_."

Ginny scoffed in irritation.

"It's unbelievable, isn't it? I mean, it's not even her fault. She didn't choose it. She didn't want it. Out of all things they could...why would they classify her that way?"

"I think maybe because it scares them a little. They don't really understand it, nobody does, and by putting her into that category it makes 'em feel safer. Makes 'em believe they understand."

Ginny hated the idea of Buffy being classified as a _creature_, even if she herself didn't believe it, it made her sound less human. The Ministry could be really cruel at times.

With a heavy, empathetic sigh she picked up a peeled orange and began to separate the pieces.

"I guess, thinking about it now, it makes me kinda glad that Buffy's not here," she said, handing a slice of orange to Neville. "Umbridge had her suspicions about Buffy, but she never actually got a chance to prove anything, and at least, being away, Buffy doesn't have to worry of what Umbridge might do...or say."

Neville nodded.

"It's best until Umbridge is no longer around. The farther the way she is, the better," he said, then placed the piece of fruit into his mouth.

They stayed up in Ginny's room until the bell signaled the end of breakfast, and Neville decided to leave through the flattened dormitory steps as it was difficult enough entering the room on a broomstick and he didn't want to go through that hassle again.

The final exam, History of Magic, took place that afternoon. The fifth-years entered the Great Hall at two o'clock and took their places in front of their facedown examination papers. Harry felt exhausted. He just wanted this to be over, so that he could go and sleep; then tomorrow, he and Ron were going to go down to the Quidditch pitch - he was going to have a fly on Ron's broom - and savor their freedom from revision.

"Turn over your papers," said Professor Marchbanks from the front of the Hall, flicking over the giant hour-glass. "You may begin."

Harry was finding it very difficult to remember names and kept confusing dates. To avoid too much frustration, he skipped questions he couldn't answer and looked ahead for questions he could. Hermione's notes, the ones he had read this morning, had come in handy as he was able to answer at least one easily.

He looked up now and again to check the large hour-glass on the desk beside Professor Marchbanks. He was also distracted by Parvati Patil's long dark hair that fell below the back of her chair in front of him. Once or twice, he found himself staring at the tiny golden lights that glistened in it when she moved her head slightly.

All around Harry, quills were scratching on parchment like scurrying, burrowing rats. The sun was very hot on the back of his head. What was it that Bonaccord had done to offend the wizards of Liechtenstein? Harry had a feeling it had something to do with trolls...he gazed blankly at the back of Parvati's head again. If he could only perform Legilimency and open a window in the back of her head and see what it was about trolls that had caused the breach between Pierre Bonaccord and Liechtenstein...

Harry closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands, so that the glowing red of his eyelids grew dark and cool. Bonaccord had wanted to stop troll-hunting and give the trolls rights...but Liechtenstein was having problems with a tribe of particularly vicious mountain trolls...that was it.

He opened his eyes; they stung and watered at the sight of the blazing white parchment. Slowly, he wrote two lines about the trolls, and then read through what he had done so far. It did not seem very informative or detailed, yet he was sure Hermione's notes on the Confederation had gone on for pages and pages.

He closed his eyes again, trying to see them, trying to remember..._Think, _he told himself, his face in his hands, while all around him quills scratched out never-ending answers and the sand trickled through the hour-glass at the front...

He was walking along the cool, dark corridor to the Department of Mysteries again, walking with a firm and purposeful tread, breaking occasionally into a run, determined to reach his destination at last...the black door swung open for him as usual, and here he was in the circular room with its many doors...

Straight across the stone floor and through the second door...patches of dancing light on the walls and floor and that odd mechanical clicking, but no time to explore, he must hurry...

He jogged the last few feet to the third door, which swung open just like the others...

Once again he was in the cathedral-sized room full of shelves and glass spheres... his heart was beating very fast now...he was going to get there this time...when he reached number ninety-seven he turned left and hurried along the aisle between two rows...

But there was a shape on the floor at the very end, a black shape moving on the floor like a wounded animal...Harry's stomach contracted with fear...with excitement...A voice issued from his own mouth, a high, cold voice empty of any human kindness...

"Take it for me...lift it down, now...I cannot touch it...but you can..."

The black shape on the floor shifted a little. Harry saw a long-fingered white hand clutching a wand rise at the end of his own arm...heard the high, cold voice say, "Crucio!"

The man on the floor let out a scream of pain, attempted to stand but fell back, writhing. Harry was laughing. He raised his wand, the curse lifted and the figure groaned and became motionless.

"Lord Voldemort is waiting."

Very slowly, his arms trembling, the man on the ground raised his shoulders a few inches and lifted his head. His face was bloodstained and gaunt, twisted in pain yet rigid with defiance...

"You'll have to kill me," whispered Sirius.

"Undoubtedly I shall in the end," said the cold voice. "But you will fetch it for me first, Black... you think you have felt pain thus far? Think again...we have hours ahead of us and nobody to hear you scream..."

But somebody screamed as Voldemort lowered his wand again; somebody yelled and fell sideways off a hot desk on to the cold stone floor; Harry awoke as he hit the ground, still yelling, his scar on fire, as the Great Hall erupted all around him.

Note: Two in one month! Yay me! :) Some original passages from OotP were left in for some of those who haven't read/don't remember the books and just to sort of speed things along for the next chapter :)


	66. Chapter 66

**UnExpected **

By Amerie

McGonagall had been transferred to St. Mungo's. Hagrid had escaped into the forest. Dumbledore was gone. There was no one left to turn to. No one from the Order was there to help him, to help Sirius. Harry was on his own, and it was terrifying.

He felt hopeless. Who was he to turn to now?

The moment the question popped into his head, so did the faces of the two people he could always rely on, who stood by his side while others turned away. What a surprise it was to Harry when Ron and Hermione didn't exactly jump on the bandwagon once he told them about his vision.

Hermione had said he had a saving people thing. Harry's temper did not agree. She then went on about how maybe Voldemort had discovered their connection and sent him a vision about Sirius to trick him, and then proceeded to remind him, no, wait, scold him on the fact that if he had closed off his mind like he was supposed to, he wouldn't have seen any of it. Once again, Harry's temper did not agree.

They argued loudly in an empty classroom, so loudly, in fact, that Ginny and Luna, who had been passing by and heard Harry's shouting, entered the room wondering what was going on and if there was anyway they could help.

It took some pleading on Hermione's part to convince Harry that they should at least check and make sure that Sirius wasn't at Grimmauld Place before they go running off to the Ministry. With great resistance, Harry agreed, and then they formed a plan.

Umbridge's office contained the only fireplace that wasn't under surveillance. It was risky, but there was no other way to contact Grimmauld Place directly; it had to be through the Floo Network. Ron would distract Umbridge by telling her that Peeves was wreaking havoc in the Transfiguration Department, and Ginny and Luna would keep everyone away from the office corridor by warning passersby that someone had let off a load of Garroting Gas.

After a quick dash, Harry retrieved his Invisibility Cloak, and beneath it, he and Hermione snuck into Umbridge's office.

Hermione kept a look-out while Harry stuck his head into the green flames of the fireplace. What a disappointment it was when he found no one in the kitchen but Kreacher.

"Where's Sirius, Kreacher?" Harry demanded.

The house-elf gave a wheezy chuckle.

"Master has gone out, Harry Potter."

"Where's he gone? Where's he gone, Kreacher?"

Kreacher merely cackled.

"I'm warning you!" said Harry, fully aware that his scope for inflicting punishment upon

Kreacher was almost non-existent in this position. "What about Lupin? Mad-Eye? Mrs. Summers? Any of them, are any of them there?"

"Nobody here but Kreacher!" said the elf gleefully, and turning away from Harry, he began to walk slowly towards the door at the end of the kitchen. "Kreacher thinks he will have a little chat with his mistress now, yes, he hasn't had a chance in a long time, Kreacher's master has been keeping him away from her -"

"Where has Sirius gone?" Harry yelled after the elf. "Kreacher, has he gone to the Department of Mysteries?"

Kreacher stopped in his tracks. Harry could just make out the back of his bald head through the forest of chair legs before him.

"Master does not tell poor Kreacher where he is going," said the elf quietly.

"But you know!" shouted Harry. "Don't you? You know where he is!"

There was a moment's silence, then the elf let out his loudest cackle yet.

"Master will not come back from the Department of Mysteries!" he said gleefully. "Kreacher and his mistress are alone again!"

And he scurried forwards and disappeared through the door to the hall.

"You -!"

But before he could utter a single curse or insult, Harry felt a great pain at the top of his head; he inhaled a lot of ash and, choking, found himself being dragged backwards through the flames, until with a horrible abruptness he was staring up into the wide, pallid face of Professor Umbridge, who had dragged him backwards out of the fire by the hair and was now bending his neck back as far as it would go, as though she were going to slit his throat.

* * *

"Kreacher?"

Kreacher stopped his cackling and froze on the spot. Buffy Summers was standing right before him, and his little heart sank.

Buffy had heard someone in the kitchen. Someone shouting, but she couldn't make out the voice or what they were saying. She'd heard Kreacher, knowing his voice well, but the other, sounded distant and not very much like Kreacher at all.

"Were you talking to someone in there?" she asked, pointing to the kitchen.

Kreacher didn't want to lie. Buffy had been very kind, and Kreacher liked her very much, but his loyalty belonged to the Black Family. He was their house-elf. He had to obey their orders. No matter how good Buffy was, Kreacher had no choice but to obey the Black Family line and lie.

"No, no, young mistress, Kreacher was talking to himself. Yes, Kreacher always talks to himself," he said. "No one else in there. No one."

"But I heard another voice."

"No, no, just Kreacher, young mistress. No one in there. Young mistress may check if she likes," he said knowing that Harry Potter's head no longer poked through the fireplace. "Kreacher must go now. Yes, Kreacher must go and find more of mistress's treasures."

Kreacher disappeared in the blink of an eye and reappeared up in the attic, where he would lock himself in for three days without any food or water, to punish himself for lying to Buffy; just like he had done the last time, when he had lied to her about being in the attic when he was really at Malfoy Manor after Sirius had accidentally released him from the house.

True to form, Buffy went to check things for herself, but like Kreacher had said, there was no one in the kitchen; however, Buffy couldn't shake the feeling that Kreacher wasn't telling her the truth and that he wasn't in here alone.

Another pair of footsteps came in behind her, but Buffy didn't feel the need to turn around and kept looking around the room, searching for any clues to confirm her suspicions.

"Thought I heard someone in here," Remus said.

"You, too, huh? Must be that advanced, supernatural hearing thing."

Remus nodded, but Buffy didn't see it as her eyes were still surveying every inch of the kitchen.

"What are you looking for?" he asked.

"Kreacher said he was talking to himself in here, but I could've sworn I heard someone else." She stared into the fireplace. "Did you recognize any of the voices you heard?"

"No, I was too far away. The only thing I heard was mumbling."

There were only four current occupants in the house, Buffy, Remus, Sirius, and Joyce, who had all been in different rooms during the time Kreacher was in the kitchen. But what if someone wasn't actually here? What if that someone else was in the fireplace?

"You know, it's not exactly unusual for Kreacher to talk to himself, he might be telling you the truth," said Remus.

"Maybe, but I don't know," she said unconvinced, staring at the empty hearth. Whoever it was, they were obviously gone now and she was the idiot looking into an empty fireplace. "I just have this really bad feeling."

The moment she turned to him, Remus could tell by the expression on her face that her worry wasn't only about whether Kreacher was lying or not.

"A regular bad feeling? Or a Slayer bad feeling?"

"Both," she said grimly.

* * *

They were caught. All of them. Even Neville, who had come to Ginny's aid when he saw one of the Inquisitorial Squad members trying take her away. They all stood around Umbridge's office, wands confiscated and each person guarded by Slytherins. Except for Harry, who was currently being interrogated by Umbridge, accusing him of trying to reach Dumbledore.

Umbridge had even called for Snape, or more accurately, for the Veritaserum. When he told her that he had run out as she had used up all his stores interrogating students, and that it would take another full moon cycle to mature another one, she put him on probation, and by the ironic bow he gave before he turned to leave, it was plain to see, Snape could care less.

But he couldn't leave. Ever since Snape had entered the room, Harry stared at him, mentally pleading with him to listen. _Voldemort's got Sirius in the Department of Mysteries. Voldemort's got Sirius in the Department of Mysteries_. But it was useless, Harry could see that he'd not heard a thing, and as Snape turned to leave, therefore taking Harry's last hope with him, Harry had to take a chance.

"He's got Padfoot! He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"

Snape stopped immediately, hand on the doorknob and looked round at Harry. His face inscrutable and Harry couldn't tell whether he had understood or not.

"Padfoot? What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? What is he talking about, Snape?" Umbridge demanded.

But his face revealed nothing.

"No idea," he said and closed the door behind him, taking all of Harry's hope with him.

And by the deflated look on Umbridge's face, it looked like he had taken her chance of the easiest way of getting the truth from Harry as well. But she would not be deterred. As she had done so many times before, Umbridge will get what she wanted by any means necessary.

"Very well. You give me no choice, Potter." She stood proudly before him, wand rising. "As this is an issue of Ministry security...you leave me with no alternative. The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue."

A chill ran down their spines.

"That's illegal," Hermione said.

"What Cornelius doesn't know won't hurt him. He never knew I ordered Dementors to go after Potter last summer, but he was delighted to be given the chance to expel him, all the same."

"It was you!" gasped Harry. "You sent the Dementors after me?"

"Somebody had to act," breathed Umbridge, as her wand came to rest pointing directly at Harry's forehead. "They were all bleating about silencing you somehow - discrediting you - but I was the one who actually did something about it…only you wriggled out of that one, didn't you, Potter? Not today though, not now -" And taking a deep breath, she cried, "Cruc—"

"Tell her, Harry!" Hermione shouted desperately.

Umbridge stopped dead.

"Tell me what?" she asked.

But Harry didn't answer. He'd rather be cursed a hundred times over than tell Umbridge anything, something Hermione knew, and it was up to her to think on her feet.

"Well, if you won't tell her where it is...I will," she said.

"Where what is?" Umbridge asked, growing even more impatient.

"Dumbledore's secret weapon."

* * *

Buffy tapped the wand against the palm of her hand. The bad feeling in her gut persisted even after Remus tried to convince her that, even if Kreacher had spoken to someone in the fireplace, it had to be a member of the Order as one else knew about Grimmauld Place. Which made perfect sense, but there was still that if. Bad guys were always handy with loopholes.

She sat up on her bed and forced herself to think of other things, of what else could be causing her bad feeling.

She wondered if Neville, Ginny and Luna were alright. But she knew they had to be, being the scrappy bunch they were. Besides, they were locked up in the castle. Umbridge may be roaming the halls, but at least it least they were stone-covered halls.

Draco she knew for sure was all right, having received a letter from him yesterday. A response to the one she had sent the day before, and the only person she could write to since he didn't have his mail checked. He was arrogant yet still sweet, and had commanded, as Draco Malfoy did not request, that she visit him sometime soon after school was out.

Then there was Susie. She had been so down when Buffy left. She really hoped she was doing okay. She would've sent an owl if she didn't know for a fact that Umbridge would toss it in the trash. Once school's out, she'll definitely contact her, maybe even pay her a visit.

What about Harry? The thought of Harry in trouble always gave her pause, because Harry and trouble went together like peanut butter and chocolate, or mini-skirts and knee-length boots. Umbridge was after him more than anybody. What if it was Harry?

There was a knock on Buffy's bedroom door that interrupted and put a halt to her worried thoughts, and Buffy looked up just as her mother peered in.

"Honey, the meeting's about to start," she said.

Buffy nodded and slipped her wand back into her arm holster. Another night, another Phoenix meeting. They were becoming daily occurrences, because unfortunately, at times like these, they were needed.

She slipped off her bed and followed her mother down the stairs. Reassuring herself that Harry was fine. As long as he stayed inside Hogwarts, despite Umbrige roaming about, he was fine.

* * *

Hermione had convinced Umbridge, by using her own paranoia and insecurities against her, to only take Hermione and Harry with her to the Forbidden Forest in search of Dumbledore's so-called secret weapon.

They stumbled into the deepest parts of the forest. Umbridge's wary eyes searching for something that wasn't even there, while Hermione pulled out all the tricks up her sleeve, and before she could come up short, angered centaurs had come to block their way.

Umbridge shouted every insult she could at them. Half-breeds! Creatures of low intelligence! Beasts! Animals! They flung arrows in her direction and even after she shrieked in terror, she still continued to demean them. And then she did the stupidest thing she could've done. She attacked.

"Incarcerous!" she shouted, toward the centaur known as Magorian. Rope shot out of her wand midair like thick snakes, and wrapped themselves tightly around the centaur's torso trapping his arms.

It was common knowledge that Karma was a bitch, Buffy knew it, had foreseen in it Umbridge's future, it was such a shame she couldn't witness it in person.

Bane, one of the centaurs, had easily and physically overpowered Umbridge. He lifted her high in the air where she screamed and writhed pathetically like a worm on the end of a hook and then he ran through the trees with the screaming Toad in his hand to parts and experiences unknown.

Umbridge always did have a nasty habit of getting carried away.

The centaurs were planning to dispose of Harry and Hermione the same way they had disposed of Umbridge, but before they had a chance, Grawp had come crashing through the trees looking for 'Hagger' which Hermione deduced was Hagrid. He was angry and petulant like a child not being able to get what he wanted. And whether he meant to or not, he took it out on the centaurs, swiping one of them away with his large hand as if he were a fly. That was all the centaurs needed, they had been itching for a fight and they set their sights on the giant, and soon the centaurs and Grawp engaged themselves in battle.

The fight provided the perfect distraction, and in the madness of it all, Harry grabbed a hold of Hermione and ran.

After fighting off the Slytherins, but not without a few cuts and bruises to prove it, Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna escaped and went in search of Harry and Hermione, whom they came upon only a few running steps into the forest.

Quickly, they exchanged escape stories as Ron handed Hermione and Harry back their wands, and Harry was ready to set off to London alone when...

"So how are we getting to London?" asked Neville.

We? Who said anything about we?

"Look, it's not that I don't appreciate everything you've done, all of you...but I've got you into enough trouble as it is," said Harry, trying to ease the blow of rejection.

He brushed past them ready to leave and leave it at that, but Neville's voice stopped him.

"Dumbledore's Army's supposed to be about doing something real. Or was that all just words to you?"

Harry turned back and looked at his friends. They all looked so eager, so willing to help. But they had done so much for him already. He couldn't put them in anymore danger.

"Maybe you don't have to do this all by yourself, mate," Ron said

Could he really save Sirius on his own? Battle Voldemort while trying to protect his godfather at the same time? Would he be willing to risk Sirius's life on it?

There they were, a ragtag bunch if there ever was one. They had proven themselves in handling whatever was thrown at them. He couldn't have asked for any more loyalty and maybe he didn't have to go it alone.

"So how are we going to get to London?" Harry asked.

And Luna had the exact answer for that.

"We fly, of course."

And they did on the back of Thestrals that half of them couldn't even see.

* * *

Sirius was in fact in Grimmauld Place, after Harry's cryptic message, Snape had to make sure of it himself. He knew Harry's visions were stronger than most people would allow themselves to believe, but it appeared that this time, that vision was nothing more than a trap set by Voldemort to get Harry to the Department of Mysteries. So after Snape made sure Sirius was where he should be, he let Sirius, along with Remus, Joyce, Shacklebolt, Moody, Tonks and, still to his displeasure, a much too young Buffy, continue with their meeting...that a certain someone wasn't paying much attention to.

"Buffy?...Buffy?"

"Huh? What? Yes!"

The members around the table snorted.

"I know you're not in school anymore, but you still have to pay attention to some things. Even I know that," Tonks told her smiling.

"Sorry, I just...a lot of stuff on my mind. Sorry."

"Wouldn't still be about Kreacher would it?" asked Remus.

She looked down quickly, feeling like she was about to send Kreacher to the dogs.

"It kinda kills me to admit this but...I don't think he's being honest with us." They snorted again. "Okay, I know he hasn't exactly been the most honest, sane thing in this house, but he's never lied to me before." That she knew of.

Remus looked at her carefully. When Buffy had a gut feeling, especially of bad things to come, she was mostly on the mark. Her senses were trained for it.

"You still think he's lying about being alone in the kitchen earlier," he said matter-of-factly, and she couldn't help but nod instantly.

"I just can't shake this feeling that something bad is gonna happen, that he knows it and isn't telling."

They pondered on it for a moment. How much can be said for a bad feeling? Who hasn't had one and have it be nothing? But who else has been trained to listen to their gut feelings like a Slayer? A Slayer who, until today, trusted Kreacher almost completely. Who had defended his honor amongst those present.

Kreacher was always a liability. He knew too much. There was always that fear that no matter what, not even with his house-elf limitations, there might be a loophole which could let him go running off and tell their secrets. It was a worry they all shared, but there was nothing they could do. Unless it was very underhanded.

"All right, don't need to hear anymore, I say we tie him down and beat it out of him," Sirius said, rising eagerly from his chair before Joyce pulled him right back down.

"The girl's right," Moody gruffly said. "We all know that house-elf can't be trusted. What good is he if he's lying to the one person who's actually kind to him? He can turn on us any second."

"But we already knew that," said Tonks. "That was always the chance. But what we don't know now is what? What could he be hiding?"

"Or who he could be telling," Kingsley said, his voice grave.

"But he hasn't gone anywhere."

"He may not have had to. What if they have been coming to him?" The moment they heard the words, worry began to set in. "His loyalty resides with the Black Family, and the Black Family branches out beyond these walls."

The same name appeared almost instantly in all their minds.

"Narcissa," said Mad-Eye.

"She would be next in line to inherit Kreacher. He would listen to her if they were to get into contact. Maybe they've already figured out how and he's been–"

"They haven't," Sirius interrupted gruffly. "I would know."

"Are you sure?"

Sirius rubbed his hands roughly over the table. His anger and annoyance evident on his face.

"I would know what comes and goes in my own house. Been locked up damn well enough to be sure."

A nerve had struck Sirius and the atmosphere became awkward.

They settled into a pensive quiet. Each contemplating the possibility of Kreacher telling the Death Eaters what he knew. Even if Dumbledore was the Secret Keeper of the Order, and even if Kreacher could not reveal their location or their most dire secrets, he did know things. Things that could put everyone at risk.

And Buffy couldn't take it.

"Where are you going?" Remus asked her as she stood.

"I have to know. One way or another, I have to get it out of him."

But she didn't have a chance to make it to the doorway.

A shimmering light entered the room. A blue and silvery light that began to take form.

It was Snape's patronus and everyone froze.

_

* * *

_

Ninety-five

_Ninety-six_

_Ninety-seven_!

Harry stopped, as did everyone behind him. He looked around. He looked through the length of the aisle. But there was no one there.

"He should be here," he said, his confidence fading.

It was trial and error when they reached the Department of Mysteries. With its revolving doors, it took some time to reach the one they wanted, but the moment they arrived at the room with the towering shelves filled with dusty, glass orbs, Harry ran full force. He needed to get to Sirius. Praying it wasn't too late. He readied himself for a fight. Ready to tell the others to get Sirius and get out as he fought Voldemort alone.

But Sirius wasn't there. No one was.

Nobody spoke. Harry did not want to look at any of them. He felt sick. He did not understand why Sirius was not here. He had to be here. This was where he, Harry, had seen him...

"Harry?" Ron called. "Have you seen this?"

Harry strode back to where Ron was standing, staring at one of the dusty glass spheres on the shelf.

"It's — it's got your name on it," said Ron, pointing at one of the small glass spheres that glowed with a dull inner light. In spidery writing was written a date of some sixteen years previously, and below that:

_S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D. _

_Dark Lord and (?)Harry Potter_

Harry stretched out his hand and closed his fingers around the dusty ball's surface. He had expected it to feel cold, but it did not. On the contrary, it felt as though it had been lying in the sun for hours, as though the glow of light within was warming it.

"Harry," Hermione said, her voice nearing panic, and once Harry noticed why, his own fear rose.

Black shapes began to surround them. Blocking their paths and exits. Wands pointed in their direction.

And the DA members readied themselves.

But none of the Death Eaters moved. Except for one, who was slowly making his way closer in their direction.

"Where's Sirius?" Harry demanded.

"You know, you really should learn to tell the difference between dreams..." He swiped the wand over his face and the mask disappeared, revealing the aristocratic face of Lucius Malfoy. "And reality. You saw only what the Dark Lord wanted you to see." He stopped with still a bit of distance between himself and Harry, and stretched out his hand. "Now, hand me the prophecy."

"If you do anything to us, I'll break it."

A disjointed cackle came from the darkness.

"He knows how to play. Itty, bitty baby. Potter."

The cackle and the voice belonged to a woman that was coming into view. A woman with dark hair and a gaunt face.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Neville said, angered.

She turned her crazed eyes to him, and they glinted in realization.

"Neville Longbottom, is it? How's Mum and Dad?"

"Better, now they're about to be avenged!"

He raised his wand to her, and Bellatrix instantly returned the favor.

"Now, let's everybody just calm down...shall we?" Lucius said, his voice gentle, trying to ease the tension as Bellatrix lowered her wand and Harry forced Neville to do the same. "All we want is that prophecy."

"Why did Voldemort need me to come and get this?"

"You dare speak his name? You filthy half-blood!" Bellatrix shouted.

"It's all right. He's just a curious lad, aren't you?" said Lucius. "Prophecies can only be retrieved by those about whom they are made. Which is lucky for you, really. Haven't you always wondered the reason for the connection between you and the Dark Lord? Why he was unable to kill you...when you were just an infant? Don't you want to know the secret of your scar?" Lucius could see the eagerness in Harry's eyes. Children were so easy to manipulate. Give them a knut and they'll give you a castle. "All the answers are there, Potter, in your hand. All you have to do...is give it to me. Then I can show you everything."

Harry looked into the glass sphere. So many questions running through his mind. What if all the answers were right in there? Everything he wanted to know. Why Voldemort had killed his parents? Why he and Voldemort shared a connection? Why all these years Voldemort was after him?

"I've waited 14 years," he said.

"I know," said Lucius, mock-sympathy in his tone, reaching towards Harry's hands.

Harry looked at him and grasped the orb tighter.

"I guess I can wait a little longer. Now!"

"Stupefy!" The six of them shouted at once and then made run for it.

Death Eaters appeared out of every corner – out of every shadow. It wasn't long before Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna got separated. Running for their lives as they each fought their own battles. Shooting off every defensive spell in their arsenal and even resorting to physical attacks to get away. The bruises and cuts were growing by the second. Bones had been broken and dislocated. Blood had been shed. The battle was breaking bodies and turning the pristine room to shambles.

They ran through the maze of aisles. At times fighting blindly through the dark with enemies with more power than their own. They shot spell after spell, but they were outnumbered and outmatched. Finally, even though it was by accident, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Luna regrouped. But just before they could make their escape, a dark figure, a masked Death Eater, began to descend upon them from the ceiling like thick fog.

"Reducto!" Ginny commanded and blasted away their threat.

It was a relief...at least until the spell rebounded.

"Get back to the door!" Harry shouted.

And they ran as fast as they could, avoiding the orbs that fell like raindrops in a storm.

Once again, the maze of aisles became a problem; now, not only did they confuse but terrified as they began to tip over like dominoes. Glass shattered around them; towers were falling; yet, somehow, someway, they finally managed to find the door that would lead to their escape and they dove out.

They fell straight down, pausing mere inches above the hard ground, and then, as if someone had cut the string that held them up, they dropped in a thud.

They were back in the circular room they had seen before. The one with the mysterious archway. The one that whispered.

With yet more bruises added to their many, they stood up from the ground and were eager to leave, at least, the majority of them.

"The voices. Can you tell what they're saying?" Harry asked, walking up the stone platform, closer to the veil.

"There aren't any voices, Harry," Hermione said.

"I hear them, too," said Luna, following Harry's path. The voices from the veil drawing them closer to.

"Harry, it's just an empty archway. Please, Harry!" Hermione pleaded.

Harry didn't know if he sensed the threat on his own or if the whispers behind the veil had told him, but he knew that their battle with the Death Eaters was not over.

"Get behind me!" he commanded his friends.

They called to attention and formed a unit behind him, their wands raised and ready, but they were blindsided. The Death Eaters attacked every which way like wasps. Confusing them, attacking them, before finally, separating them.

With a tight grasp on the prophecy, Harry rose to his feet. The only one left on the stone dais. He looked around and found his friends separated and held hostage. Wands at their throats with no chance of escape. What had he done? What had he –

A low chuckle echoed in the offset darkness.

"Did you actually believe...or were you truly naive enough to think that children stood a chance against us?" Lucius said, stepping into the light and making his way up the platform. He was done playing games. They wanted to act like heroes? Then he was going to treat them as such. "I'll make this simple for you, Potter. Give me the prophecy now...or watch your friends die."

"Don't give it to him, Harry!" Neville shouted, and Bellatrix quickly shushed him, tapping her wand against his throat in warning.

Sirius wasn't here. It had all been a trick. Harry had risked his friend's lives for nothing. They came here because they wanted to help him, and all Harry did was put their lives in danger. No matter how much he ached for the answers to the questions that plagued him for years. No matter if those answers resided within the glass ball in his hands. Harry was done. He knew what he had to do.

Slowly, hesitantly, Harry handed the prophecy over to Lucius Malfoy, whose mouth watered in anticipation, but just...as the orb...touched...his finger tips...it flew away into the darkness with the speed of an arrow.

No one moved.

Perplexed at the new mystery, the Death Eaters gripped their prisoners tighter. Everyone a little more on edge at what new surprise could come their way.

Lucius took a step forward, wand ready at his side as he searched the darkness for a figure. Then he saw movement. And everyone heard the slight echo of footsteps. They waited anxiously as the figure came closer and closer until Buffy Summers revealed herself in the light with the glass orb in her hand.

Neville, Ginny and Luna were surprised but relieved. Harry, Ron and Hermione were shocked beyond belief. And the Death Eaters were a little more cautious than they liked to admit.

No one said a word or raised a wand as she walked closer to the stone dais. But the Death Eaters readied their minds to act in an instant. The last time they had seen or heard of Buffy Summers, she had been possessed by the Dark Lord himself. He had warned them, even then, that Buffy Summers was not a girl to regard lightly. There was something different about her, something dark and predatory that, combined with the unknown ramifications or imprints that may have been left after the Dark Lord vacated her body, made her volatile and possibly dangerous.

She was nothing but a child. Even if the Dark Lord had possessed her. Even if there was a chance that her potential had blossomed into a full Vampire Slayer. Buffy Summers was a child Lucius had known and seen grow up, at least until the age of thirteen. She may be further along in years, and it had been some time, but like the rest of them, she was only child.

Lucius readjusted his features and put in place the dignified, two-faced demeanor many knew so well.

"Miss Summers," he drawled as if he were greeting an old friend that had arrived for tea.

Buffy smiled sardonically, stopping a few feet away from him on the platform. Her eyes never leaving his face.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy."

"My, my, it's been a long time hasn't it?" he said, watching her warily. "You've certainly grown into such a lovely young woman." There radiated a dangerous air around her and he tightened the grip on his wand. "Draco's told me all about your return, of course. We were very glad to hear it."

Her smiled shortened, knowing exactly that 'we' did not refer to only the Malfoy family.

"I'm sure you were."

It was the tone in her voice and the challenging expression on her face that caused Lucius to straighten his posture into a defensive stance. He began to second-guess his tactic of treating Buffy like a child, as it was becoming very clear there was nothing childish about her.

"You've got something very important in your grasp. Something that belongs to us. Now, why don't you be a dear and hand that over to me," he said, stretching out his hand.

"What?" she asked and held up the orb. "This?"

Buffy tossed the sphere in between her hands like it was a rubber ball, causing Lucius's heart to clench every time he saw it pass through the air.

"You know, you'd think they would put something as important as a prophecy in something a little sturdier. Engrave it in stone or the like." She stopped playing with it, much to Lucius's relief, and held it out beside her. "Instead they put it in glass. Which is a shame 'cause glass is just so damn..." With hardly any effort at all, Buffy squeezed the glass, shattering it to pieces. "Fragile." The tiny shards fell from her fingers, shattering even more on the hard ground and soon there was nothing left of it but dust. "Oops."

No! NO! A-all that planning! All that fighting! How-how was going to explain this? The Dark Lord –

Angered, Lucius pointed his wand at Harry. If Buffy destroyed something precious to the Dark Lord, Lucius would destroy something precious of hers. But he didn't have a chance to cast a single spell, because just as he opened his mouth, something caught his peripheral vision. The corner of his eye noticed something illuminated behind him. Slowly, he turned around and came face to face with Sirius Black.

"Get away from my godson," he said, and punched Lucius right in his aristocratic face.

It was as if that punch was the shotgun and a flurry of action started at once. Thick plumes of white smoke started to fly in. Attacking the Death Eaters and taking the teenagers away from their grasps.

Tonks. Remus. Mad-Eye. Kingsley. They had all come. They were ready for a fight.

Buffy went in for the action head-first. Literally. A Death Eater had tried to stun her and she dove forward to avoid being shot and then retaliated with a spell of her own that hit its mark. She dodged the multitude of spells and went to Mad-Eye, who was fighting three to one.

"Sure took your sweet time," Mad-Eye admonished the moment she had arrived.

"You wanted a distraction, remember." Buffy sent a stunner to a masked bandit. "So I distracted."

"You didn't have to destroy the prophecy!"

"It was either that or have them keep looking for it." They ducked a jet of blue light. "Which is kinda useless to keep since we already know everything–"

"Can you two bicker later? There's a battle going on if you hadn't noticed!" Tonks shouted, battling a Death Eater feet away.

And a green light had zoomed right by Mad-Eye's ear to prove it.

Neville, Ginny, Ron, Hermione and Luna watched the battles around them, safeguarded by the edge of the stone platform and having members of the Order nearby. They saw jets of light whiz through the air. They saw dangerous and deadly spells avoiding their marks. They saw Buffy Summers holding her own amongst the most experienced of Order members and Death Eaters alike. None of them had ever seen her battle; Ron and Hermione didn't even know she could; Neville, Luna and Ginny had only imagined, but none of them knew she could fight like that.

Buffy tucked and rolled, missing yet another red light that had come her way. She blasted a jet of light at her attacker and grimaced when he dodged it. Her wrist was about to flick again when her opponent hit her on the shoulder. The red light absorbed into her body and it felt as if a thousand tiny needles were jabbing the surface of her skin. The prickles hurt, but not enough to send her screaming to the ground. Not the normal reaction to the Cruciatus Curse, but Buffy's Slayer blood wasn't exactly normal.

"Seriously? That all you got?" she said, antagonizing him. "I have a Muggle friend who can cast better spells than that!"

Another stream of red light hit her mid-chest, and this time around, the needles stabbed harder. The Death Eater must've meant to hurt more this time around. Buffy clenched her jaw at the pain, but she didn't slink away like a wounded puppy. Spells were all and good, but she wanted to hit hard and she wanted to hit now.

Remember kids, violence is always the answer.

She threw spells and dodged curses. The moment she gave chase the Death Eater followed. They wove through the battles around them and through madness the Death Eater had lost sight of her. One minute she was ahead of him and the next...where did she...there came a tap on his shoulder and when he turned around...

"Hi," Buffy said smiling and then punched him in the face.

With a hand on his nose, the Death Eater stumbled back in pain. He struggled to regain his footing as he shook his head to clear away the spots before his eyes. Buffy watched him cautiously and when he began to raise his wand, she moved forward, whipped her leg through the air and kicked the weapon away from his hand. The Death Eater cried out in anger and frustration at the loss of his weapon, at the blood dripping down his nose and into his mouth. He barreled forward like a bull, and using his momentum against him, Buffy bent her knees, grabbed a hold of him and sent him flying through the air before he fell hard on the ground and didn't move again.

"And I was going easy on him, too," Buffy said to herself.

A green light whizzed by her ear. Snapping around, Buffy found another Death Eater coming towards her. A vengeful one at that.

"You were unworthy of him!" he shouted.

She jumped out of the way as he cast another spell and watched from the ground as he disappeared in a plume of thick black smoke to reappear right before her. His eyes staring darkly in disgust; his wand pointed right between her eyes.

"Blood traitor," he spat.

"You know, I think that may be the sweetest thing I've ever heard," she told him and kicked out his legs from under him.

Buffy jumped to her feet and kicked away his wand. But he was ready for that. He jumped up as well and backhanded her across of the face, throwing off her balance. Buffy quickly regained her steps, tucked her wand into her sleeve and put up her fists. So this one was a fighter? About time.

Buffy waited for him to make the first move and the moment his large fast came flying in her direction, Buffy blocked it with her forearm and clocked him with her much tinier yet much stronger fist. The Death Eater's head snapped to his left and a ringing sound echoed in his ears, and before he could recover, Buffy went on the attack again and punched his head in the opposite direction. She pulled back and waited. He was supposed to be a fighter and she wanted a fight, but Death Eaters were no demons and soon her opponent fell to his knees in a daze and Buffy was left disappointed.

"Would've had better luck if I'd just left you your wand, huh?" she said and watched as her once vengeful adversary fell forward in a thud.

And another one bites the dust.

Buffy let her wand drop back into her hand from her holster and wasted no time in searching for another fight, which meant completely missing the supposedly unconscious Death Eater stir behind her and completely missing the fallen wand that went back into his hand.

Feet away, Buffy saw Tonks having the time of her life. Throwing spells as rapidly as bullets in a machine gun. The girl can kick ass. It seemed that her clumsiness only– Oomph!

Buffy fell to the ground. The Death Eater had played possum and brought Buffy down to his level. With a snarl on his lips, he wrapped an arm around her neck and pushed the tip of his wand against her temple.

"Such a naive little girl," he slithered in her ear.

The grip was getting tighter and Buffy was losing oxygen. She grabbed his arm and began to pull, but she was starting to get light-headed and losing her strength.

"He told us not to kill you, you know," he whispered. "Said if we were ever to lay eyes on Buffy Summers, don't kill. You see, he's got big plans for you." He chuckled darkly. "But I don't care. You're unworthy of his attention. It's best to be rid of you now. One less problem. Slayer or not. See, if I killed you, he wouldn't know. So many spells flying about, if you died, no one would know who had done it. No one would – "

"Did anyone ever tell you, you talk too much?" she said, and threw her head back, cracking his nose and causing him to release her neck.

Buffy fell forward on her hands and coughed for fresh air. Rubbing her sore neck, she rose to her feet and looked down at the crumpled Death Eater with his hands on his face.

"If you talked less and killed more, I would've so already been dead by now. But no, you're all yadda, yadda, yadda."

She bent down and picked up his wand. With a smile on her face, she snapped it in half and tossed it to the side.

"Night, night," she said and with one punch knocked him out cold. "Really should've done that the first time."

"Buffy!" Remus shouted urgently.

The moment she turned to him, he jerked his head to his left. Two Death Eaters were gaining in on unsuspecting Neville, Ginny, Luna, Hermione and Ron. Remus was currently busy with his own pair of enemies and too far away. She was the only one with a free pair of hands and she had to think quick. There were too many obstacles in her way, if she cast a spell, it may hit someone she didn't mean to hit. She needed to buy some time. She needed a distraction.

"Bend!" she ordered of Remus.

"What?" he asked, stunning one of his opponents.

"NOW!"

Remus quickly stunned the remaining Death Eater he was fighting right before he bent forward, legs straight, back flat, like he was told. She ran toward him, leapt onto his back like it was a spring board and soared through the air. It provided the exact reaction she was hoping for as the Death Eaters stopped their movement the moment they caught sight of her.

And after flipping in a graceful arc, Buffy landed straight on her feet right between them and their intended targets.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you it was rude to sneak up on people?" she said, and punched the nearest one closest to her.

Like the fights before her, Buffy relied more on her fists than her wand. She decked and kicked, broke bones and spattered blood. The fight was over almost as fast as it had begun and she left two bodies broken on the floor. Job finished, she quickly turned back and kneeled down to the eye level of the injured party.

"You guys okay?" she asked.

"What are you – " Ron began to ask.

"We're fine," Neville replied.

"Except for being a little battle-worn," said Ginny.

Buffy noticed how Ginny cupped the side of her ankle, most likely twisted or broken, and then moved her eyes over to Neville's broken, bruised and bleeding nose, Hermione's bruised cheek and, by the way she was cradling it, broken hand, not to mention Ron and Luna's own myriad of serious wounds.

"I can see that," Buffy said, grimacing. She looked around the battlefield; the Death Eaters were quickly going out of commission, but they weren't down for the count yet and who knew if any more were coming? She turned back to the wounded soldiers and pulled rank. "Look, it's almost over, but stay here and don't move. Use every defensive spell you know if they come at you, but don't pick a fight. Got it?"

Ron opened his mouth, most likely to say how could they defend themselves and all that rubbish, but Ginny covered it with her hand before he could say a word.

"Got it."

Buffy rose to her feet, but before she could turn back to seek any more fights, Neville pulled her to the ground.

"Stupefy!" he said, wand pointed at the Death Eater that had been behind her.

The Death Eater fell back and Buffy got up.

"I really need to stop being so cocky," she muttered to herself, and then turned to Neville. "Thanks!"

"Anytime," Neville said.

Buffy walked over to the Death Eater, and, as she did with the others, knocked him out cold. She should really make that a priority.

Rapid flashes of light and joyful laughter caught Buffy's attention, and when she looked up at the stone dais, Buffy could see Sirius fighting Bellatrix Lestrange and covering Harry at the same time. Harry who had stayed by Sirius's side, refusing to leave him alone since he had arrived. They had fought wonderfully together. Harry was on it, spell for spell. But now, it only seemed to be a family affair and they battled with a vengeance.

Sirius ducked Bellatrix's jet of red light. Laughing loudly to taunt her.

"Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.

The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest and he stumbled back and back towards the veil.

Buffy knew what that veil was. Giles had described it to her fleetingly. The Order had told her specifically before they had arrived. And her heart began to sink.

The laughter had not quite died from Sirius's face, but his eyes widened in shock. It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall, but slowly his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch.

Everything seemed to have stopped. Buffy couldn't move.

"No," she whispered as her heart shattered into pieces.

* * *

Note: Another chapter and closer to the finish line ladies and gentlemen!

As for using the movies version of the Ministry battle, it seemed to work more for this story due to detail and length and also I need able bodied DA members for the next chapter ;)

Thanks for the reads and reviews, they make my otherwise drab days supper bright and sunny


	67. Chapter 67

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

"SIRIUS!" Harry yelled. "SIRIUS!"

Sirius must be just behind the curtain; Harry would pull him back out.

But before he could reach the archway, Lupin grabbed Harry around the chest, holding him back.

"There's nothing you can do, Harry –"

"Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!"

"- it's too late, Harry."

"We can still reach him –" Harry struggled hard and viciously, but Lupin would not let go...

"There's nothing you can do, Harry...nothing...he's gone."

"He hasn't gone!" Harry yelled.

He did not believe it; he would not believe it; still he fought Lupin with every bit of strength he had. Lupin did not understand; people hid behind that curtain; Harry had heard them whispering the first time he had entered the room. Sirius was hiding, simply lurking out of sight.

"SIRIUS!" he bellowed. "SIRIUS!"

"He can't come back, Harry," said Lupin, his voice breaking as he struggled to contain Harry. "He can't come back, because he's d-"

"HE - IS - NOT - DEAD!" roared Harry. "SIRIUS!"

There was movement going on around them, pointless bustling, the flashes of more spells. To Harry, it was meaningless noise, the deflected curses flying past them did not matter, nothing mattered except that Lupin should stop pretending that Sirius - who was standing feet from them behind that old curtain - was not going to emerge at any moment, shaking back his dark hair and eager to re-enter the battle.

But some part of Harry realized, even as he fought to break free from Lupin, that Sirius had never kept him waiting before...Sirius had risked everything, always, to see Harry, to help him...if Sirius was not reappearing out of that archway when Harry was yelling for him as though his life depended on it, the only possible explanation was that he could not come back...that he really was...

"Harry - no!" cried Lupin, but Harry had already ripped himself away from Lupin's slackened grip and chased after Bellatrix Lestrange, who ran off, trying to escape.

"SHE KILLED SIRIUS!" bellowed Harry. "SHE KILLED HIM! I'LL KILL HER!"

Buffy couldn't move. One second he was...and now...No. No, no, no, no, no! He can't be...He still had so much to...What about her mom? What about Harry? Sirius can't be gone! It was only a veil. A veil in a stupid archway!

"_There's, um, there's something called the Veil of Death. It's a gateway between this life and the next, the afterlife, I guess you could say..."_

Suddenly, Giles' words came flooding into her mind, and she recalled what he had said while they were talking about resurrections during Christmas.

"_...although there have been instances of people going through the Veil, there's been no record of them coming back."_

"_So, it's a one way deal."_

"_I'm not sure. Like I said, there hasn't been a case where a person coming back, has been known to happen."_

The Veil of Death was a gateway. A gateway was like a door. Doors were entrances and exits. People went through them all the time. All they needed was the right key to turn the lock. It was risky, but it was worth a shot.

Remus couldn't stop Harry. Some part of him didn't even want to. Bellatrix had killed Sirius. Had ripped him away from this world. Now Remus was alone. The only Marauder left who wasn't a traitor. It was as if his youth, everything good and innocent about it, had vanished. His memories were all he had now.

The veil fluttered in the archway and Remus could hear the whisperings on the other side. But he knew what they meant. What would happen if he got too close. He moved backwards, slowly one foot behind the other. His eyes watchful of the Veil. And then he stopped moving. Something golden nearing the archway caught his eye.

"Buffy..." Remus said, about to warn her about getting too close, but when she turned to him and he saw the fierce determination on her face and noticed the end of a long rope tied around her waist, fear set into his heart. He grabbed a tight hold of her shoulders, pulled her away and looked her dead in the eye. "Buffy, no," he said firmly. "Buffy, I told your mother– I promised her I would bring you back. You don't know what's on the other side. You don't know what'll happen!"

But Buffy didn't care. Right now all she could think of was bringing Sirius back. Nothing else mattered.

She pried herself away from Remus's hands and placed the rope in her place.

"Two tugs and then pull," she said, and ran toward the Veil.

"No. Buffy, no! BUFFY, DON'T!"

But it was too late. Buffy was gone.

And Remus felt frozen. The rope running through his slacked hands, following Buffy to places unknown.

What had he done? Why did he let her go? If she didn't come back...Why didn't he stop her? What would he tell Joyce? If Buffy...No! No. She had to come back. She will come back. She had to. All he needed to do was pull it together and get a good grip on Buffy's lifeline. Who knows where Buffy was going or how long the rope needed to be to get there, but Remus was her anchor. She was counting on him.

Remus waited patiently and nervously for the rope to taut itself out. He eased his grip just enough for the rope to pass through, and just as he moved back, he bumped into something. Looking behind him, Remus found Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna and Neville standing in a row. Each one grabbing a hold of the rope.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Helping," said Ron.

Before Remus could say a word, the rope pulled tightly forward and they lurched along with it. It seemed that wherever Buffy was going she had arrived. They let some of the rope slack to give Buffy more length if she needed it and then they waited.

"Remus!" Mad-Eye called.

They all turned back. Mad-Eye and Kingsley were currently trying to gather up the nearly dozen defeated Death Eaters and Tonks, unfortunately, lay unconscious near them.

"We got it. Go on," said Ron.

Their five bodies were a better match than his one and he let go of the rope.

"Two tugs, then pull. Do you understand?"

"Two tugs, then pull," repeated Ron.

Remus nodded approvingly and ran off hoping that Buffy would come out of the archway alive and wondering if she would come out at all.

* * *

They ran through the Atrium. Bellatrix shouting gleefully at the top of her lungs.

"I killed Sirius Black! I killed Sirius Black! Awww...did you love him, little baby Potter? Ha, ha, you coming to get me?"

Hatred rose up in Harry like he had never felt before.

"Crucio!" he shouted.

Bellatrix tumbled to the ground, but she did not writhe and scream like he had seen others do when they were hit with the spell. He ran up to her and pointed his wand again at her breathless form.

"You've got to mean it, Harry," a voice suddenly whispered. "She killed him. She deserves it." Harry knew that voice, and below him, Bellatrix smiled. "You know the spell, Harry. Do it!"

Harry wanted to. He was aching for it. She killed Sirius. Ripped him away from this world forever. It was so easy...just say the words...make her feel how he felt when he saw Sirius fall through the archway...it would be so simple...

The curse was right on the tip of Harry's tongue, but something felt off. There was a dark presence in the atmosphere, and out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed something materializing out of thin air.

He turned to his left and came face-to-face with Lord Voldemort, and before Harry even had a chance, Voldemort knocked the wand away from his hand.

"So weak," he mocked.

Anger and hatred bubbled inside of Harry, and it was at himself. Before he even waved his wand, he had been defeated. Voldemort had taken away his weapon without any effort at all.

The air suddenly illuminated with a faint cast of green, and everyone turned to the fireplace with the green dancing flames just as Albus Dumbledore came out of the fire.

"It was foolish of you to come here tonight, Tom," he said, wand out and ready. "The Aurors are on their way."

Voldemort moved back. Giving space between himself and, though he would never outwardly admit, one of the most powerful wizards of all time. His grand power was itching to prove itself and his wand was eager for battle.

"By which time I shall be gone you...shall be dead," he slithered.

The moment the first spell was cast, Bellatrix quickly escaped through the Floo Network and Dumbledore magically pushed Harry feet away from the battle that would be the grandest Harry had ever seen.

* * *

It was like floating downward on a gentle breeze. She felt warm and comforted and all thoughts evaporated from her mind. There was a sense of peace here. Soft, fuzzy peace.

At least for a while.

The air began to turn cold and constricting, and she felt like she was being pushed through a wind-tunnel.

Everything was so dark and dizzying that she didn't know which way she was falling. Up. Down. Sideways. Inside out. It was like Alice down the rabbit hole.

There was nothing but black for unknown periods of time and unknown stretches of miles. And she kept falling down the darkness until the darkness opened up below.

It was the size of a pinhole but it was bright. She focused her attention and the pinhole grew larger and the brightness became brighter...and green. Green?

The further she fell, the larger the hole became until it was large enough for Buffy to fall completely through.

Bright new colours whizzed by her: blue, white, green, brown. It was a steady stream of colours that blended together until her vision was filled with nothing but green. Green that was rapidly coming closer.

_Oh, no. This will so not be good..._

Buffy braced herself for what was coming...her body tensing for the impact...and she fell smack-dab into the grassy ground with a sickening thud.

But Buffy felt nothing.

There was no pain. Not even a twinge. No broken bones or shattered skull. She felt perfectly fine. There was something really wrong with that.

She rose to her feet with no trouble at all and looked around at her very strange surroundings.

"What the Hellmouth?"

How did she – Sirius!

There he was. Sitting underneath a tree, his back to her but it was definitely him.

"Sirius!" she called out as she ran, and when he turned around, it spurred her on even more. She nearly skidded on the grass when she dropped herself down, but she didn't care, and she wrapped her arms tightly around him. "You're okay."

"'course I'm okay," he said, and hugged her back just as tightly.

He was! He really was! Sirius was solid and here and...He was okay!

Buffy pulled back so she could see his face, and happiness wasn't a big enough word. She relished his presence a little while longer and then concentrated back on her mission.

"I came to bring you back, see, got a rescue rope and everything," she said, lifting up the rope that dragged behind her and disappeared into the unknown.

"Bring me back?" he asked, and she nodded. "Why?"

He looked so confused; it was if she had told him she was going to put him in a dress, and Buffy's heart sank.

"What do you mean why?" she asked incredulously. "Sirius, don't you want to come back?"

He sighed deeply, pulled his knees up to this chest and looked over the scenery.

"I'm okay right here."

Buffy couldn't believe this. She was absolutely sure, absolutely positive, he would've been eager to return. And look at him. Not even a spark, not even a spark of a spark at the thought of going home.

"Here? Y-you wanna stay here?" she asked, and Sirius nodded calmly. Why would he...her eyes, still wide in shock, looked around. This place confused her even more than Sirius wanting to stay. "Where exactly is here? What is this place?"

It was easy to think that this place was the real one. It was exactly alike. Down to the leaves and the stones. But she knew it wasn't, it was too quiet for one thing.

"In between," he said matter-of-factly. "It's where we go before we cross over to wherever it is we cross over to."

"What? Like purgatory?"

"Something like that."

"Soooo purgatory is Hogwarts?"

They were sitting beneath a tree on a small, grassy mound that looked over the grounds. The Quidditch Pitch was off to the right and the Forbidden Forest to the left. The lake glittered under the warm sun. The castle lay before them large and majestic. It was beautiful and pristine. And they were alone. Not a single soul in sight or sound to be heard.

"Not for everyone." He sighed contently. "This was where I was happiest. Where I was most at peace."

Buffy looked at him carefully again. He did look more peaceful now. Not like before. Even if he had found joy in his life after years of being in Azkaban, the years he spent there had left their mark. But now it was as if those horrible years had never existed. His face was smoothed of rough lines, and his eyes were no longer haunted.

"This is where I belong," he said, his voice tranquil yet firm. "And I'm not going back."

* * *

It was a rainstorm of spells.

Harry hated to shield his eyes from the battle, he wanted to catch every second of it, but at times, he had no choice. It was either the bright flashes of spells or the dangers that emitted from them that had Harry covering his eyes more often than not.

Voldemort sent another killing curse at Dumbledore but missed, instead hitting the security guard's desk, which burst into flame.

Dumbledore flicked his own wand: the force of the spell that emanated from it was such that Harry felt his hair stand on end as it passed, and this time Voldemort was forced to conjure a shining silver shield out of thin air to deflect it. The spell, whatever it was, caused no visible damage to the shield, though a deep, gong-like note reverberated from it - an oddly chilling sound.

"You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore?" called Voldemort, his scarlet eyes narrowed. "Above such brutality, are you?"

"We both know that there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom," Dumbledore said calmly, as though he had not a fear in the world. "Merely taking your life would not satisfy me, I admit."

"There is nothing worse than death, Dumbledore!"

"You are quite wrong. Indeed, your failure to understand that there are things much worse than death has always been your greatest weakness."

They lashed out again. The power of their spells was causing damage to the space around them. It caused the glass to shatter, the tiles on the walls to crumble, and it caused the Fountain of Magical Brethren, depicting the golden figures of a wizard, witch, centaur, goblin and house-elf, to crack.

The battle waged in a great spectacle, the opponents pitting their powers against one another, but before the battle could declare a clear victor, before one could be proven the most powerful, Voldemort vanished.

It appeared as though he had simply given up, and Harry was relieved for it to be over. He made to run out, away from his hiding spot, but Dumbledore bellowed, "Stay where you are, Harry!"

For the first time, Dumbledore sounded frightened. Harry could not see why. The hall was quite empty but for themselves.

And then Harry's scar burst open, and he knew he was dead. It was pain beyond imagining, pain past endurance.

Harry was gone from the hall, he was locked in the coils of a creature with red eyes, so tightly bound that Harry did not know where his body ended and the creature's began. They were fused together, bound by pain, and there was no escape

And when the creature spoke, it used Harry's mouth, so that in his agony he felt his jaw move.

"Kill me now, Dumbledore..."

Blinded and dying, every part of him screaming for release, Harry felt the creature use him again...

"If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy..."

Dumbledore could do nothing. He couldn't expel Voldemort's presence from Harry's body. He could do nothing but watch concerned and horrified as Harry spoke again.

"You've lost, old man."

* * *

"No," Buffy vehemently denied. "No, Sirius, this place isn't real. It's not the real Hogwarts, and if you feel like you really belong there, then where you belong is back home." He wasn't even looking at her; Buffy could almost see her words going in one ear and out the other. "Sirius!"

The sky above them began to grow gray, and a cold breeze wafted over them. It was as if the atmosphere was controlled by their emotions, and right now, Buffy couldn't feel more cold or gray about Sirius's unwillingness to return.

"Don't you ever feel tired, Buffy? Don't you ever want it to just stop?" The contentment in his voice gave way to fatigue, and Buffy noticed that the green leaves above them began to turn orange. "All the hurt. All the fighting. The constant overflow of emotions that never seem to end." His eyes finally turned away from scenery and he looked at her. "After everything you've been through, don't you want it to all stop?"

There were times that she did want it all to stop. Right before all the hard choices she had to make, when she thought about the sacrifices, she wanted the world to just stop and let her be at peace. But then, once she made those choices and came out the other end, everything was lighter, and she realized how much more she had to lose if she had let the world just stop.

"No, I don't. And do you know why? 'Cause I'm not done. You're not done." The determination in her eyes flared up again as she committed herself to making him understand why it was wrong for him to stay. "Yeah, the fighting sucks. And the heartache and the pressure and all the stupid, hard things that make up life, but what about all the other stuff? The good stuff. Your good stuff! What about firewhiskey? And blackberry currant? And your growing obsession with board games?" The side of his mouth lifted up into a smile. "There's still so much more to do, to see. So much good stuff to compensate for the bad stuff. And so many good people who don't want you to miss out on it." Buffy needed Sirius to realize that he had connections. He needed to understand that there were reasons for him to go back. Reasons more important than firewhiskey and blackberry currant. "What about Remus?" The moment she said the name, Sirius's back straightened and Buffy grabbed onto that reaction. "You both lost James, and in a sad, twisted way, you lost Peter, too. He thought he lost you once, and then you came back. For years, it was the four of you, then it was down to only two, and now it's just going to be him? You've been friends since forever. You know things about each other that no one else will. You both know what it's like to lose people you love. Don't make him go through that again."

Sirius's brow furrowed, and concern covered his face. Remus had already been through so much. He had suffered since he was a child when he had been bitten by Fenrir Greyback and the curse of the werewolf poisoned his blood. But Remus was a fighter, not once letting his curse overtake his life, Sirius could attest to that, and the concern eased away.

"Remus will be fine. He's got a strong heart. He'll make it through," he said, and Buffy's heart sank again. "Besides, he's not alone. He's got you and...Joyce."

The moment he said her name, his face became dismayed and Buffy felt her hope rise.

"She may look strong, but if you stay here, it will break her more than you'll ever know," she told him and brought out the big guns. "Remus told me you've been in love with her since you were fifteen, and he also told me she's been in love with you a lot longer than that." There was a spark in his eyes now. "Through every boyfriend, even after she married my dad, you were it. The one. And now that you finally- finally!- got it right, you're going to just throw it away?"

The sky was growing darker, clouds began to gather above them as Sirius thought about Joyce, about leaving her behind. They had been denied each other for such a long time, would only a few months really be enough? But what life could he offer her? Tucked away inside a home he couldn't leave. Have her be looked down upon as the woman who fell in love with a so-called murderer if he was ever given his freedom. Joyce didn't deserve that kind of unwarranted shame.

"The, uh..." he said, his throat thick with emotion. "The memories will always be there. And Joyce...Joyce is a strong woman. She'll be fine. She will. I know it."

It was maddening and heartbreaking. Buffy knew Sirius deserved peace, but he needed to experience life first. He had been locked up for so long for a crime he didn't commit, and what he needed wasn't here, what he needed was freedom and to live with the people who loved him, who wanted to give him the happiness he deserved.

"What about me?" she cried, not willing to hold anything back anymore. "It was only the other day you promised you would always be there. You can't just come in and make this huge impact on my life, and then..."

"Buffy..." he said gently, his heart clenching at growing tears in her eyes.

"What about Harry? Did you even think about him?" she said desperately. "He needs you more than anybody. He's already lost so much. Sacrificed more than anyone should have to. Are you really going to leave him now when he needs you the most? Now that we know exactly what he's up against? What he has to face?"

"Harry..." he whispered to himself as he thought of his godson. At what had driven his hope for so many years inside his prison cell. Of what gave him the will to fight on when there had been so much darkness in his life.

Brown leaves began to fall from the branches around them. Light raindrops started to escape from their grey storm clouds. There was no more sun, no more glittering lake or pristine castle. The grounds had lost their majestic warmth and now felt to be a large and lonely place.

"There is nobody, nobody that can take your place. You may have been locked up in that house, but you were always there. He knew he could always count on you. How do you think he feels now that he thinks you're gone? You can't leave him alone like this."

Buffy could see the guilt appearing on his face, but she didn't want him to feel guilty; as hard as it may seem, she just wanted him to understand that life wasn't easy, but he wouldn't have to live it alone.

"Sirius," she said calmly, steadying her wayward emotions and wanting to lay it out bare. "Look, we all know that life is hard, and at times, sucks beyond the telling of it. And not to sound too afterschool special, but not everything about it is so bad that you should just give up. It's so much easier to think of everything that's gone wrong when you got an easy way out. But to get the really good things, you have to fight, everyday, and it's unfair, but it's life and no one's an exception. You thought you lost everything once, but you still kept fighting, and now...Sirius, think back to everything you've gained since then. Of everyone who stood by your side. Who love you and know that you've got so much more to live for. Think back to all the good things that have happened because you never lost hope. Sirius, please...please don't just let it stop..." She could see the struggle within him as he considered her words and a heavy storm overtook the grounds. "Please."

* * *

Let the pain stop, thought Harry...let him kill us...end it, Dumbledore...death is nothing compared to this...

"Harry," Dumbledore said gently, kneeling down, watching him writhe in pain.

Every bad memory, every awful thought came to the forefront of Harry's tortured mind and it trapped him even further within the coils of the creature.

_So weak. So vulnerable._

"Look at me," Dumbledore said. "Harry, it isn't how you are alike. It's how you are not."

How they are...not...

Harry fought back and all the good memories started to flow in. The faces of his friends, of his loved ones overtook every inch of his mind. Of their warmth and light. Of their loyalty and kindness.

Ron...Hermione...Sirius...Buffy...Ginny...Neville...Luna...Remus...The Weasleys...Mrs. Summers...the Order...

"You're the weak one..." Harry said out loud, fighting back with the only weapon Voldemort never understood. "And you'll never know love or friendship. And I feel sorry for you."

And as Harry's heart filled with emotion, the creature's coils loosened, the pain was gone.

Harry lay motionless, his glasses gone, shivering as though he lay upon ice, but as he looked up, he saw the unmistakable form of Lord Voldemort hovering over him.

"You're a fool, Harry Potter. And you will lose everything."

There were voices echoing through the hall, more voices than there should have been. The Atrium was growing full of people; emerald green flames burst into life in all the fireplaces along one wall, and streams of witches and wizards were emerging from them.

It was the last thing Voldemort saw before disappearing before their very eyes. And through his haze, Harry heard the frightened, unmistakable voice of Cornelius Fudge.

"He's back."

He was back. And now they all knew it.

* * *

They were getting worried. Their arms were starting to get tired and feel heavy, especially Hermione, who was using her only good hand to hold onto the rope. And then there was Ginny, who was placing most of her weight on her one good ankle.

"She's taking too long," said Neville.

"She'll bring him back," Ron said resolutely, which was a surprise to everyone.

"You seem awfully sure," Hermione commented.

"Thought you'd be the last person to cheer her on," piped Ginny.

"Who said anything about cheering?" Ron said defensively. "I just know she'll bring him because she's too stubborn to come back empty-handed."

And they rolled their eyes and waited and waited again.

Then their tired arms were jerked forward. Was that one? They glanced at each other questioningly as there hands gripped the rope tighter. And then the rope tugged again. Two. That was two tugs. And Remus had told them two tugs and then...

"PULL!" Ron shouted.

With every muscle in their bodies, they pulled the rope back. Eyes squeezed shut. Jaws clenched. Backs arched. They pulled so hard that it was burning their hands. But it seemed futile. It didn't feel as though they were pulling up two people, it felt as though they weren't pulling up anything at all.

"Come on! Pull harder!" Ron demanded.

"We are!" Hermione said.

Their red faces were almost purple and their legs began to shake from the pressure. What was going on? Why weren't they moving? Neither they nor the rope had move an inch. It felt as if the other end of the rope was tied to tree and all their effort, no matter how much they tried, was useless.

They needed help.

"REMUS!" Ginny called out desperately.

The moment he heard his name, Remus was there in a pop. He quickly grabbed a hold of the rope behind Neville and pulled.

"This...isn't...working," he said, his voice strained. The rope felt like it was stuck. They needed to change tactics. "Okay...on three...everyone pull...as hard...as they can…"

They stopped pulling and quickly readjusted their feet and hands for a better grip.

"Okay...one...two...three!"

As one, they pulled with every ounce of strength in their bodies.

There was a loud popping sound like pulling a cork out of a bottle and it felt as though the rope had snapped, causing everyone to fall backwards from the sudden loss of balance.

A bright light emerged from the archway. So bright that they covered their eyes from the brilliance of it. And then the light gained shadows as through the Veil, Buffy Summers and Sirius Black came soaring in and landed a mere foot away from their rescuers in a thud. And slowly the light disappeared and the Veil became still.

It was as if the world had stopped for a second and no one moved as they stared at the pair in wonderment. Was it really them? Were they okay?

Cautiously, Remus, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna scrambled towards the unmoving bodies of Buffy and Sirius. Their eyes searching for any visible sign that something was wrong. But there was none, and then Remus slowly reached over and, with shaking hands, checked for pulses.

"Well?" Ginny asked, ignoring the throbbing pain in her ankle.

The amount of joy that lit up Remus's face was nearly indescribable.

"Not very strong, but definitely there."

And they all sighed in relief.

"Wait, so does this mean we brought 'em back to life?" asked Ron.

"Ron, how...actually, that's a very good point," Hermione said, and looked to Remus, but before any mention of resurrections could be made, Buffy began to stir.

"Where is he?" she asked weakly, eyes closed, and reached out desperately for Sirius, and once her hand landed on his arm, she slowly turned to him and pried open her eyes.

Slowly, and with great effort, Sirius took a hold of her hand and looked to her as well.

"Your mum's gonna kill you," he said, laughed once and fell unconscious.

The humor was definitely a good omen for his wellbeing and they smiled.

Remus placed a gentle hand on Buffy's face, and when her green eyes looked at him, he had never felt such a surge of relief.

"You're a stupid, stupid girl," he said.

And then Buffy collapsed into darkness with a smile on her face.

* * *

Note: TADA! Never count out the "dead" in the Buffyverse, even if in the crossing over of the Potterverse. I'll admit I took some liberties in the Veil of Death, but that's what fanfiction is all about isn't it? Besides, Sirius still has too much kick in him to kick the bucket just yet :)

Hope you enjoyed the chapter :)


	68. Chapter 68

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

It was his fault Sirius had died; it was all his fault. If he hadn't been so stupid, so naive enough to fall for Voldemort's trick, if he hadn't been so convinced that what he had seen in his dream was real, if he had only opened his mind to the possibility that Voldemort was, as Hermione had said, banking on Harry's love of playing the hero . . .

But it was too late. Sirius was dead. Sirius was dead, and Harry stood in the Headmaster's office, going crazy with guilt.

After Voldemort had vanished, and Harry regained his senses, Dumbledore had sent Harry out of the Ministry by Portkey while he stayed behind to deal with Fudge and his questions. Harry didn't care who answered those stupid questions, he didn't want to recall or defend anything that had happened; more than anything he wanted to be left alone, but even if he was the lone body in the Headmaster's office, it would be evident he wasn't the only presence.

A picture behind Harry gave a loud grunting snore, and a cool voice said, "Ah . . . Harry Potter . . . "

Phineas Nigellus gave a long yawn, stretching his arms as he surveyed Harry out of shrewd, narrowed eyes.

"And what brings you here in the early hours of the morning? This office is supposed to be barred to all but the rightful Headmaster. Or has Dumbledore sent you here? Oh, don't tell me . . . another message for my worthless great-great-grandson?"

Harry couldn't speak. Phineas Nigellus didn't know that Sirius was dead, but Harry couldn't tell him. To say it aloud would be to make it final, absolute, irretrievable.

Filled with terror at the thought of being interrogated Harry strode across the room and seized the doorknob.

But it wouldn't turn. He was shut in.

The guilt filling the whole of Harry's chest like some monstrous, weighty parasite now writhed and squirmed. Harry could not stand this, he could not stand being himself any more . . . he had never felt more trapped inside his own head and body, never wished so intensely that he could be somebody, anybody, else . . .

The once silent fireplace burst into emerald green flame, and Harry leapt away from the door in surprise. He stared at the man spinning inside the grate and watched as Dumbledore's tall form unfolded itself from the fire.

* * *

"You all right back there?"

"Yeah, yeah, not as heavy as he looks."

The door shut behind them, and Remus and Mad-Eye were just steps into the entryway when they came across the shocked figure of Joyce Summers.

Joyce had come running the moment she heard the unmistakable squeak of the front door hinge as it opened, and she stopped dead when she saw them. Her heart felt cold and dread spread through her veins at the sight of Buffy lying motionless across Remus's arms, of Sirius appearing just as lifeless slung over the shoulder of Mad-Eye Moody. The world around her became fuzzy and then still. Her body felt weak and nothing felt real.

"Joyce," Remus said gently, hoping to extinguish her anguish before it burst out of her. God only knows what she must be thinking, and from the look on her face, it was definitely the worst of it.

Joyce snapped out of her trance at the sound of her name, and the world started back up again as if someone had pressed play on the remote. She ran over to them, her eyes moving back between Buffy and Sirius, her mouth open and closing, unable to form the questions she desperately wanted answered.

"They're all right," Remus assured her. "Both breathing. Both unconscious but all right."

The air no longer strangled her and Joyce breathed deeply in relief, but despite hearing that they were both breathing, which was a good sign, the fact that neither of them was standing on their own two feet and conscious meant they were not all right.

"H-how did . . . Who did this?" she demanded, placing a hand on Buffy's forehead.

"That would be Buffy," said Remus rather proudly. "Well, just the cause of this state actually."

"What?"

"And a lovely little story it is, too, but I'm not carrying this sack for the length of it," Mad-Eye interjected gruffly, adjusting Sirius's body on his shoulder to prevent him from slipping. "Let's get 'em upstairs and in bed, and Lupin can fill ya in. I gotta head back to the Ministry. No doubt they'll want my side of the story."

"Right, right," Joyce said and began to think of the best place to put them. "I guess the bedroom on the first floor would be fastest. We'll place them both in there. Easier to keep on eye on."

Remus and Mad-Eye moved forward without another word, and Joyce followed behind as they lead the way up the stairs to unload their respective cargo.

* * *

"I know how you're feeling, Harry," said Dumbledore very quietly.

"No, you don't," said Harry, and his voice was suddenly loud and strong; white-hot anger leapt inside him.

"There is no shame in what you are feeling. On the contrary . . . the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength."

Harry felt the white-hot anger lick his insides, blazing in the terrible emptiness, filling him with the desire to hurt Dumbledore for his calmness and his empty words.

"My greatest strength, is it?" said Harry, his voice shaking. "You haven't got a clue . . . you don't know . . . "

"What don't I know?" asked Dumbledore calmly.

It was too much. Harry was shaking with rage.

"I don't want to talk about how I feel, all right?"

"Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human."

"THEN - I - DON'T - WANT - TO - BE - HUMAN!" Harry roared, and he seized the delicate silver instrument from the spindle legged table beside him and flung it across the room; it shattered into a hundred tiny pieces against the wall. "I DON'T CARE! I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON'T CARE ANY MORE!"

He seized the table on which the silver instrument had stood and threw that, too.

"You do care," said Dumbledore. He had not flinched or made a single move to stop Harry. His expression was calm, almost detached. "You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it."

"I - DON'T!" Harry screamed, so loudly that he felt his throat might tear, and for a second he wanted to rush at Dumbledore and break him, too; shatter that calm old face, shake him, hurt him, make him feel some tiny part of the horror inside himself.

"Oh, yes, you do," said Dumbledore, still more calmly. "You have now lost your mother, your father, and the closest thing to a parent you have ever known. Of course you care."

"YOU DON'T KNOW HOW I FEEL! YOU - STANDING THERE - YOU -"

But words were no longer enough, smashing things was no more help; he wanted to run, he wanted to keep running and never look back.

Harry turned on his heel and ran to the door, seized the doorknob again and wrenched at it.

But the door would not open.

"Let me out," he said, shaking from head to foot.

"No," said Dumbledore, simply.

For a few seconds they stared at each other.

"Let me out," Harry said again.

"No," Dumbledore repeated.

"If you don't - if you keep me in here - if you don't let me-"

"By all means continue destroying my possessions," said Dumbledore serenely. "I daresay I have too many."

He walked around his desk and sat down behind it, watching Harry.

"Let me out," Harry said yet again, in a voice that was cold and almost as calm as Dumbledore's.

"Not until I have had my say."

"Do you - do you think I want to - do you think I give a - I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU'VE GOT TO SAY! I don't want to hear anything you've got to say!"

"You will," said Dumbledore steadily. "Because you are not nearly as angry with me as you ought to be. If you are to attack me, as I know you are close to doing, I would like to have thoroughly earned it."

"What are you talking -?"

"It is my fault that Sirius died," said Dumbledore clearly. "Or should I say, almost entirely my fault - I will not be so arrogant as to claim responsibility for the whole. Sirius was a brave, clever and energetic man, and such men are not usually content to sit at home in hiding while they believe others to be in danger. Nevertheless, you should never have believed for an instant that there was any necessity for you to go to the Department of Mysteries tonight. If I had been open with you, Harry, as I should have been, you would have known a long time ago that Voldemort might try and lure you to the Department of Mysteries, and you would never have been tricked into going there tonight. And Sirius would not have had to come after you. That blame lies with me, and with me alone."

Harry was still standing with his hand on the doorknob but was unaware of it. He was gazing at Dumbledore, hardly breathing, listening yet barely understanding what he was hearing.

"Please sit down," said Dumbledore.

Harry hesitated, then walked slowly across the room now littered with silver cogs and fragments of wood, and took the seat facing Dumbledore's desk.

"Am I to understand," said Phineas Nigellus slowly from Harry's left, "that my great-great-grandson - the last of the Blacks - is dead?"

"Yes, Phineas," said Dumbledore.

"I don't believe it," said Phineas brusquely.

Harry turned his head in time to see Phineas marching out of his portrait and knew that he had gone to visit his other painting in Grimmauld Place. He would walk, perhaps, from portrait to portrait, calling for Sirius through the house . . .

* * *

After literally dropping Sirius into one of the two beds, Mad-Eye headed back to the Ministry, but not before requesting they keep him posted, and after that, Remus and Joyce were left to look after Buffy and Sirius on their own.

"Thanks for staying behind and waiting for Dumbledore," said Remus.

"It wasn't easy, but somebody had to," Joyce responded, resting on the end of Buffy's bed.

"Sirius would've asked Kreacher to do it if he hadn't been hiding Merlin knows where."

A scowl immediately appeared on her lips.

"He was hiding all right," she said angrily.

It had been a long exhausting day, both emotionally and physically, and if Joyce had any bad news to share, which it seemed like she did, Remus needed to take it sitting down; so he did, on the end of Sirius's bed.

"Okay, what is it?" he asked.

Joyce looked at Buffy knowing how disappointed she was going to be when she found out what Kreacher had done.

"Buffy was right. Kreacher had lied about who he was talking to in the kitchen." She patted her daughter's leg and turned back to Remus. "He was talking to Harry."

"To Harry?" She nodded. "What was Harry doing in the fireplace?"

"He was looking for Sirius," she replied. "Remember what Snape had said? About Harry seeing Sirius in his vision?" Remember? How could he forget? It was the catalyst to everything that had happened tonight or morning . . . Remus was too tired to think about time frames right now, and he nodded for her to continue. "Well, I'm assuming, before he got caught by that, and I use this term very loosely, _woman_, Harry was trying to reach Sirius. To make sure that he wasn't here. That's why Kreacher hurt Buckbeak. He wanted all of us upstairs so he would be the one Harry would find when he came looking and he told Harry that Sirius wasn't here - that nobody was."

"Which was why Harry went off to the Ministry," Remus deduced, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly.

"Exactly."

It seemed that their mistrust of Kreacher hadn't been misplaced after all, and when Remus looked at Buffy, it broke his heart knowing how hurt she was going to be when she found out the truth. She had trusted the house-elf almost implicitly; they had formed a friendship of some sort that nobody really tried to understand. She was Kreacher'sfavorite person in this house, how could he lie to her? Or more importantly, why would he?

"Why would Kreacher lie?" Remus asked the all-important question. "He couldn't have thought all this up on his own. Why didn't he tell Buffy who he was talking to? Why'd he hurt Buckbeak so it would get us out of his way? And why did he tell Harry that no one was here? How did he know that Harry would go to the Department of Mysteries?"

Joyce felt the blood pumping through her brain and push against her skull. Anger, worry and exhaustion were not a good combination, and the quickly growing migraine was a testament to that.

"Because Narcissa told him," she said.

"What?"

"It seems that during the Christmas holiday, Sirius had accidentally released Kreacher from the house. When Sirius told him 'Out!' Kreacher took it literally and left. He wasn't hiding up in that attic like he said he was; he had actually gone to Malfoy Manor. To Narcissa, just like Kingsley had predicted."

"The next Black Family member, which unfortunately for us is a Death Eater with close ties to Voldemort."

"Exactly. He may not have told them all our secrets, he is still bound to Sirius after all, and he can't disregard direct orders to not say a word about the Order from his Master, but Kreacher told them whatever he could. One of those things being the fact that the person Sirius most cared about in the world was Harry, and that Harry would do anything to save Sirius in return."

"And Voldemort, knowing this, used it to lure Harry to the Department of Mysteries."

Joyce nodded.

"Narcissa gave him the orders and since she's a Black, Kreacher more than happily obliged," she said, and looked over at Sirius. Boy, was he really going to kick himself when he found out, and who knows, the rest of the Order would probably stand in line to help him.

They all knew it and here was the proof. No matter how safe a constitution may seem, or how many binds a house-elf may have to their master, there were always loopholes. Kreacher didn't spill a single secret about the Order, he couldn't, but he still managed to cause some damage. And as Remus looked at Sirius and Buffy, he couldn't help but shudder at the thought of how irreversible some of that damage could have been.

"How do you know all this?" Remus asked his voice hoarse and low.

"Dumbledore," she said. "When he came by, after I told him everything Snape had told us, he went in search of Kreacher and found him in the attic. It wasn't long before Kreacher spilled the beans."

"Dumbledore does have his ways."

"He sure does; I just would've preferred them to be much more violent."

Remus smiled, amazed at just how alike mother and daughter could be.

"So, what exactly happened at the Ministry?"

* * *

Voldemort knew. He knew that Harry would've done anything to save Sirius. Making Harry believe Sirius was being tortured in that bloody room sent him running, just as he had planned. And more than anything, Voldemort wanted Harry in the Hall of Prophecy where he would find the glass orb with both their names, because as Dumbledore had explained about those prophecy-filled orbs:_ 'only the people to whom they refer can lift them from the shelves without suffering madness: in this case, either Voldemort himself would have to enter the Ministry of Magic and risk revealing himself at last - or else you, Harry, would have to take it for him.'_

All Harry had needed to do was master Occlumency and it all could've been avoided, but he didn't, he didn't try, he didn't want to, but he would've if they had just told him why. Why learning it was so damn important! Why Dumbledore had avoided him for months! Why Snape was the one to instruct him! What could happen if Voldemort got into his mind! But they didn't, because they wanted to protect him like they always did; like they needed to stop doing, because, as it turned out, in the end, Harry was the only one that could save them.

The conversation with Dumbledore ended shortly ago, and as Harry walked through the halls of the castle towards the infirmary where his injured friends lay, he couldn't help but think back to everything he had been told.

"_I knew not whether it would be ten, twenty or fifty years before Voldemort returned, but I was sure he would do so, and I was sure, too, knowing him as I have done, that he would not rest until he killed you. I knew that Voldemort's knowledge of magic is perhaps more extensive than any wizard alive. I knew that even my most complex and powerful protective spells and charms were unlikely to be invincible if he ever returned to full power. But I knew, too, where Voldemort was weak. And so I made my decision. You would be protected by an ancient magic of which he knows, which he despises, and which he has always, therefore, underestimated - to his cost. I am speaking, of course, of the fact that your mother died to save you. She gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows in your veins to this day. I put my trust, therefore, in your mother's blood. I delivered you to her sister, her only remaining relative."_

"_She doesn't love me," said Harry at once. "She doesn't give a damn -"_

"_But she took you," Dumbledore cut across him. "She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. Your mother's sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield I could give you."_

"_I still don't . . . "_

"_While you can still call home the place where your mother's blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort. He shed her blood, but it lives on in you and her sister. Her blood became your refuge. You need return there only once a year, but as long as you can still call it home, while you are there he cannot hurt you. Your aunt knows this. I explained what I had done in the letter I left, with you, on her doorstep. She knows that allowing you houseroom may well have kept you alive for the past fifteen years."_

Blood and love. That's what it all came down to. The answers to the most persistent questions that had plagued him for years. Blood and love and a prophecy.

"_Voldemort tried to kill you when you were a child because of a prophecy made shortly before your birth. He knew the prophecy had been made, though he did not know its full contents. He set out to kill you when you were still a baby, believing he was fulfilling the terms of the prophecy. He discovered, to his cost, that he was mistaken, when the curse intended to kill you backfired. And so, since his return to his body, and particularly since your extraordinary escape from him last year, he has been determined to hear that prophecy in its entirety. This is the weapon he has been seeking so assiduously since his return: the knowledge of how to destroy you."_

"_The prophecy's smashed," Harry said blankly. "Buffy destroyed it . . . "_

"_The thing that smashed was merely the record of the prophecy kept by the Department of Mysteries. But the prophecy was made to somebody, and that person has the means of recalling it perfectly"_

"_Who heard it?" asked Harry, though he thought he knew the answer already_

"_I did," said Dumbledore._

Dumbledore had heard it sixteen years ago, in a room above the bar at the Hog's Head inn from an applicant for the post of Divination teacher that turned out to be Sybill Trelawney, the great-great-granddaughter of a very famous, very gifted Seer who at first seemed to not have had a trace of the gift herself.

_Dumbledore placed the Pensieve upon the desk, and raised his wand to his own temple. From it, he withdrew silvery, gossamer-fine strands of thought clinging to the wand and deposited them into the basin. He sat back down behind his desk and watched his thoughts swirl and drift inside the Pensieve for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he raised his wand and prodded the silvery substance with its tip._

_A figure rose out of it, draped in shawls, her eyes magnified to enormous size behind her glasses, and she revolved slowly; her feet in the basin. But when Sibyll Trelawney spoke, it was not in her usual ethereal, mystic voice, but in the harsh, hoarse tones Harry had heard her use once before:_

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches . . . born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies . . . and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not . . . and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives . . . the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies . . . "_

_The slowly revolving Professor Trelawney sank back into the silver mass below and vanished._

_The silence within the office was absolute. Neither Dumbledore nor Harry nor any of the portraits made a sound. Even Fawkes had fallen silent._

"_Professor Dumbledore?" Harry said very quietly, for Dumbledore, still staring at the Pensieve, seemed completely lost in thought. "It . . . did that mean . . . what did that mean?"_

It meant that the person who had the only chance of conquering Lord Voldemort for good was born at the end of July, nearly sixteen years ago. But it wasn't as simple as it sounded.

Two wizard boys were born at the end of July that year, both of whom had parents in the Order of the Phoenix, both sets of parents having narrowly escaped Voldemort three times. One, of course, was Harry. The other was Neville Longbottom.

It could have been either. It could have been Neville just as easily as it could have been Harry, and the reason why it was not, lay within the prophecy.

"_Voldemort himself would mark him as his equal. And so he did, Harry. He chose you, not Neville. He gave you the scar that has proved both blessing and curse."_

"_But he might have chosen wrong!" said Harry. "He might have marked the wrong person!"_

"_He chose the boy he thought most likely to be a danger to him," said Dumbledore. "And notice this, Harry: he chose, not the pureblood, which, according to his creed, is the only kind of wizard worth being or knowing, but the half-blood, like himself. He saw himself in you before he had ever seen you, and in marking you with that scar, he did not kill you, as he intended, but gave you powers, and a future, which have fitted you to escape him not once, but four times so far - something that neither your parents, nor Neville's parents, ever achieved."_

But a nagging question still hung in the air. Why did Voldemort try and kill Harry as a baby? Why didn't he wait and see whether Neville or Harry looked more dangerous when they were older and tried to kill whoever it seemed to be. It would've been more practical to do so, of course, but Voldemort's information about the prophecy was incomplete. He had only been told of the beginning, the part foretelling the birth of a boy in July to parents who had thrice defied Voldemort. The eavesdropper at the Hog's Head, who had overheard about the prophecy, could not warn the Dark Lord that to attack Harry would be to risk transferring his power and marking him as his equal. Voldemort never knew that there might be danger, that it might be wise to wait, to learn more. He did not know that Harry would have power the Dark Lord knows not.

"_But I don't!" said Harry, in a strangled voice. "I haven't any powers he hasn't got, I couldn't fight the way he did tonight, I can't possess people or - or kill them -"_

"_There is a room in the Department of Mysteries," interrupted Dumbledore, "that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than the forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there. It is the power held within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all. That power took you to save Sirius tonight. That power also saved you from possession by Voldemort, because he could not bear to reside in a body so full of the force he detests. In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you."_

Harry knew what it was. And it angered him. How could something that was supposed to be so pure, so filled with light, bring him such pain and darkness? How could it bring such anguish when it was supposed to bring him peace? Harry couldn't help but feel that maybe it was because he didn't deserve it. Maybe all of this was to prove that Harry didn't deserve to be loved.

"_The end of the prophecy . . . it was something about neither . . . can live . . . "_

" _. . . while the other survives," said Dumbledore._

"_So," said Harry, dredging up the words from what felt like a deep well of despair inside him, "so does that mean that . . . that one of us has got to kill the other one . . . in the end?"_

"_Yes," said Dumbledore._

As Harry reached the door to the infirmary, he stopped. He stopped moving. Stopped breathing. _Neither can live while the other survives_ . . . the choices were clear: Die or commit murder. Be the victim or be the murderer.

And once again, faced with the reality of who he was, of what he had to do, Harry wanted it to end; if it meant living this way, of making these kinds of choices, maybe he didn't want to be human anymore.

* * *

"She really need to stop doing this, it's getting ridiculous," said Remus, placing a hand on Buffy's forehead and smiling.

The worry lines on Joyce's face deepened, and her hands twisted over each other.

"Do you think she knows?" she asked.

"What actually happened to her when she went through the Veil?" he inquired, and he turned to Joyce just as she nodded. Calmly, Remus shook his head and looked back to Buffy. "No, I don't think so, but we don't want to shock her while she recuperates. We'll tell her when she gets better."

Joyce nodded, more as a comfort to herself, as an affirmation that Buffy will get better, because no one knows what to expect now. This was uncharted territory for everyone. No one had ever returned from that Veil. No one knew what consequences lay ahead. What after-effects going between two worlds could cause. And it scared all of them though they were not ready to admit it - to say it out loud.

"Molly and Arthur will be here tomorrow or the day after," Joyce said, her eyes not moving from Buffy's sleeping form. "Molly said she had a feeling she would be needed here."

Remus nodded. "Mother's intuition."

"She has a very strong one . . . I wonder where mine is."

The disappointment, the guilt, was evident in her voice and Remus hated to hear it.

"Joyce . . . "

"Ever since the Chamber of Secrets, I've constantly worried about her safety . . . and then, when she told me she was the Slayer . . . well, I told you how I reacted," she said, unable to stop her words from flowing out. Joyce had bottled it all up, night after night, for fear that if she said any of this out loud, it would make her sound like a bad mother, but she didn't care. Her daughter was lying unconscious for God knows how long, with God knows what repercussions, and she just didn't care about anything else anymore. "I'm at the point where I can't even separate my worry from my intuition. Sometimes . . . sometimes I get these strong feelings that there's something wrong, and I can't even act on them because I tell myself it's just me, she's all right . . . I convince myself that I'm just being paranoid." She paused for a moment, her throat so thick that it was hard to speak; but wanting to push on, to get it all out, she swallowed roughly to untangle the emotions from her throat and gently grabbed a hold of Buffy's hand. "I've never blamed her for any of it, even saying the word blame makes me feel awful. And I know that if she were to ever find out, it would only make her feel guilty, and I never, _never _want her to feel that way. She's already been through so much . . . even though she doesn't say it, doesn't need to say it, she relies on me to be strong. To be sure. I don't want to take that safety away from her." She had rubbed gentle circles on the back of Buffy's hand while she spoke, and for a moment she paused everything: her words, her movements, her breath. Joyce thought back on everything they had endured the past years. Of seeing Buffy in the hospital wing of Hogwarts, unconscious with the Dark Mark on her arm, the abandonment of Hank, of the cuts and bruises and secrets in Los Angeles and Sunnydale. And something inside of Joyce always told her not to ask about those cuts and bruises and secrets, because she knew Buffy didn't want her to know, because if she knew, it would make everything so incredibly real, so incredibly frightening that Buffy could collapse from it. All Buffy needed was her mother to be there, as long as she knew that, then Buffy could handle it all.

Joyce took a deep, cleansing breath and looked at Remus. "So, I don't say a word. I keep it all to myself and act like everything is okay . . . that no matter what, no matter what lies ahead, no matter what is happening now, everything is going to be okay. I make sure that she knows that I will always be here."

It was moments like these, moments where Remus could feel all the warmth and love that radiated off her, that made him thankful, made him proud to know her, to have her in his life, to be part of her family. And Joyce needed to know it more than ever.

With a gentle smile on his face, Remus walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. His eyes shining with warmth as he looked at her.

"You are a wonderful mother, Joyce. You've handled everything that has come your way with more grace than anyone could expect. Despite every obstacle, every test of courage, you've never abandoned your hope and you've stood by those who needed you with such unwavering love. You may not know it, we may not say it enough, but you, Joyce Summers, mean the world to us. And I am so proud, so thankful for everything, and I never want you to forget that."

His words were so loving, so tender that a lump formed inside of Joyce's throat, and her eyes brimmed with tears.

"All right, where is he?"

The new and very loud, brusque voice caused Joyce and Remus to jump and turn immediately to the portrait on the back wall behind Joyce.

"Phineas," she said.

"Where's who?" asked Remus.

"That no good great-great-grandson of mine going around making everybody believe his dead. I know he's in this house somewhere . . . " Not wanting to give Phineas anymore reason to shout, Remus moved out of the way to give him a clear view of Sirius Black unconscious, but alive, on the bed. "I knew it! I knew it was some ridiculous joke of his. Well, Dumbledore's going to hear about this. I told him, I told him Sirius was nothing but a . . . "

"Wait! Phineas!" Remus called, but Phineas was already gone from the frame, and Remus knew exactly where he was going. "I'd better get over to Hogwarts and explain everything before he confuses Dumbledore."

"Wait, Dumbledore doesn't know?"

"No, he doesn't," replied Remus, already at the doorway. "It's really all just a big mess, but I'll explain why when I come back. I promise."

And then he was gone. And Joyce was left alone in the quiet room with the unconscious bodies of her daughter and the man she loved, contemplating what would become of them next, of what had happened, of the madness their lives had become.

* * *

It was early, much too early but Harry couldn't wait any longer to see if his friends were all right. Despite Dumbledore's assurance that they would be fine, Harry needed to see them for himself. He owed them that much.

They lay in a row, one right after the other. He passed each one of them: Luna, Ginny, Neville, Ron, he surveyed their bandages with guilt, and at the very end, he stopped by Hermione. If he had just listened to her . . . if he had waited . . . he should've known that as always, she was right, Voldemort had just used him, and if he had done like she had asked, none of them would be here with broken bones and open wounds.

"Harry?"

Harry jumped, startled at the sound of Hermione's weak, raspy voice. He thought she was sleeping, but he could see that her mouth was moving now as if she were trying to swallow something sticky, and he now noticed that her eyes weren't completely closed at all, only sleepily hooded.

"Hermione . . . Hermione, you should be sleeping," he said gently.

Slowly, Hermione pried her eyes a little wider and she looked at him.

"Harry, Sirius . . . Sirius is alive," she said, almost mumbled in her half-asleep state.

A lump immediately formed in his throat and his heart tightened.

"No, Hermione," he said, shaking his head. "He's . . . he's not . . . "

"No, Harry, you're not listening," she said. She cleared her throat lightly and adjusted herself up on the bed. Her eyes were not nearly as wide as they should be, but they were firm and very alert. "Sirius is alive. Buffy went into the Veil after him. She brought him back. He's alive, Harry."

H-he's . . . he's . . . no, no it was too good to be true. Hermione must've been dreaming. Harry saw him go through that Veil. Dumbledore said he was dead. Sirius wasn't . . . But his hope wouldn't give up so easily. Hermione said Buffy brought him back. She didn't say that Sirius didn't die; she said he was brought back.

Hope rose up within Harry with greater fervor. He was almost shaking from the emotion at the possibility that Sirius could be alive. But his mind still held enough rationality to question her words.

"But Dumbledore – "

"We tried to tell him, Harry. Really we did, but he wouldn't listen. He was busy dealing with Fudge and the Aurors and then everything happened so quickly. Remus and Moody took Buffy and Sirius away, we were brought here – "

"They took Buffy and Sirius? Where?"

"I-I don't know, Grimmauld Place I suppose. They couldn't very well take them to St. Mungo's, could they? Not with Sirius still– Harry, where are you going?"

But Harry didn't answer her, he was already running at full speed, but no matter how fast he was going, each foot felt like forever. The slow turn of the Gryphon that lead the passageway to the Headmater's office felt like an eternity. Everything was moving much too slow, and the annoyance nearly overtook him just as he reached the Headmaster's door, and through it, Harry could hear Phineas Nigellus's irate voice.

" . . . grandson of mine has the worst sense of humour. I wouldn't be surprised if he really was dead. I'm absolutely positive he would do it just to end the Black family line out of spite . . . "

. . . _if he really was dead_ . . . Harry couldn't hold back anymore, he burst through the door, and even with the surprise of finding Remus in the office talking to Dumbledore, it couldn't stop Harry's need for affirmation.

"Remus!" Harry called and ran toward him. Hermione said he helped take Sirius, and if she wasn't dreaming, if it was all real . . . "Remus, is it true? Is he . . . ? Is Sirius really . . . alive?"

Remus had never seen Harry look so full of hope, yet so full of fear at the same time. He couldn't even imagine the kind of torture Harry had gone through the past hours believing his godfather, the only family he had left, was dead. And though Sirius lay unconscious with no exact time of waking up, Remus could at least tell Harry what he knew.

"Yes. Harry, he is," he said plainly.

A great relief like Harry had never felt before spread through every inch of his body. He felt like he could almost collapse from the joy of it.

"I want to see him. Tonight."

Dumbledore knew it was an inevitable request, and as much as Harry deserved to see his godfather, with things the way they were, Harry was going to be severely disappointed with his response.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I cannot allow that," Dumbledore said.

It was as if the joy and relief never existed as anger immediately seared and overpowered Harry's veins.

"I have to see him! After what he did for me, I have to make sure he's all right. I have to make sure that it's real!"

Gently, Remus grabbed a hold of Harry's shoulders and forced the boy's attention onto himself.

"Harry, listen to me," he said soothingly. "It is real. Very, very real, but you have to understand that right now we can't take anymore risks. Voldemort has been exposed. The Ministry is up in arms. We have to be more careful now."

"I don't care, I have to see him!"

"Harry, please understand," Dumbledore interceded, his voice just as calm as Remus's had been. "With all of the night's events, right now it would be safest for you to remain here. We know how much you wish to see Sirius, but please be patient. Wait for a time when your visit is not so rushed and you can spend a good, long, relaxed time with each other."

Wait. That's all they ever asked Harry to do. He wanted to make them understand, to demand to see Sirius, but Harry knew they wouldn't budge on their decision. Harry knew he wasn't going anywhere tonight.

"Wait for how long?" he asked curtly.

Dumbledore and Remus glanced at each other. At least Harry understood, and hopefully the time frame propositioned would allow Sirius enough time to wake up from his slumber.

"You can visit him at the end of term." Harry opened up his mouth ready to argue when Dumbledore raised his hand. "Please, Harry. The reasons stated earlier of why you cannot leave still apply while school is in session. In the meantime, you are perfectly within your right to send an owl and assure yourself that Sirius is indeed alive. I ask of you again to please be patient."

It wasn't enough. Harry wanted to see Sirius with his own eyes, but once again, he knew that there was no way of changing their minds. He could argue till his face turned blue but it would lead him nowhere.

"Is he okay?" he asked, demanded.

For now, thought Remus, but he nodded nonetheless.

Harry had naturally been completely preoccupied with Sirius all this time, and when Buffy's face suddenly popped into his mind, he remembered she was the one that had saved Sirius, had risked her very life in doing so, and overwhelming worry immediately set in.

"What about Buffy? Hermione told me she went through the Veil to bring him back. I-Is she okay? Is she all right?" he asked urgently.

Remus couldn't help a smile at Harry's care, but with so much already on the young boy's mind, the best thing to do was to ease his troubles, despite the fact that Buffy and Sirius's wellbeing was still, by all those who knew, questionable.

"She's fine. She's great. They both are," Remus answered with as much assurance as he could. "You'll see them soon enough."

Hearing that from Remus calmed Harry down a great deal. It alleviated his anxiousness and he stopped at that. With his nerves visibly settled, and finally giving into his exhaustion, Harry bade goodnight and went off to sleep a much deserved dreamless sleep.

"Is advising Harry to send an owl a good idea?" Remus asked in Harry's absence. "If Sirius doesn't wake up before then and respond, Harry isn't going to just sit by."

Dumbledore sank tiredly into his chair.

"Yes, I am aware of that, but it was the only way I could think to satisfy him," he said, and Remus had to agree.

The sun was high up in the sky now. Bright, sporadic sounds of student voices began to fill the Halls. It was another day. And for some, last night's events had yet to come to an end.

"So, what do we do?" asked Remus. "By all accounts, Sirius and Buffy seem to be fine."

A long sigh escaped Dumbledore, one that was rarely heard – it was a sigh of uncertainty.

"Yes, it appears they are. They both spoke once coming out of the Veil, at least before lapsing into unconsciousness. They're breathing, which in itself is a wonderful sign, but there is not much we can do until they wake. All we can do is wait for it to run its course. We can't be prepared for the ramifications when we don't know what they are. Buffy took a great risk for both of them in passing through that Veil, and the miracle of them returning at all is not something I've ever encountered. The best thing to do is to watch over them and monitor their progress."

It was the best thing to do. It was the only thing do.

"Is it safe to say that we don't share this information with the Ministry?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said firmly. "If they hear about it, they will never leave either Buffy or Sirius alone. As with a great many other things, this must remain strictly within the Order."

Remus knew it, but hearing it from one of the wisest wizards ever known was still unnerving. But even if they were to keep this from the Ministry, there was someone else, someone more dangerous who will grab a hold of the information.

"Voldemort's bound to find out," Remus said.

"I have no doubts he will," Dumbledore replied with certainty. "His followers were eyewitnesses to the event, I'm positive he will be informed of it shortly."

And once he knows of it, Buffy Summers will be in much greater danger. They both knew it and didn't see a reason to mention it out loud. Buffy was now in as much danger as Harry, but for very, very different reasons. When it came to Harry, Voldemort had made it very clear that he only sought to destroy him. With Buffy however, they weren't sure what his exact plans were. They knew what he was after, but what they didn't know was what he willing to do get his hands on it. It was a frightening thought.

"What do we do?" asked Remus.

"What we have been doing, continue to keep a close eye on Voldemort's activities. There is not much we can do for her aside from that."

After so many years of trying to protect Harry, and having realized tonight that there came a time when protection was no longer enough, Dumbledore had come to learn when to, although regretfully, step aside. He can keep a watchful eye, but he cannot shield either Buffy or Harry from the dangers that may come their way.

"You know as well as I, Remus, that Buffy would never allow others to guard her welfare. She has grown accustomed to being the one others look to for protection, and I feel confident in admitting that she has earned the right to protect herself however she may see fit," he said, momentarily contemplating what he knew of Buffy's heroic story. "She has faced a great many obstacles, defeated all manner of dark creatures, and, even with all those accomplishments, it has come to my understanding that Buffy has other added advantages – advantages that do not lay on her physical strength alone."

"What do you mean advantages?"

"I think the time has come to acknowledge the fact that Miss Summers has become an extraordinary witch, and I believe her Slayer abilities play a great deal into that. Those abilities, although separate from her magical ones, appeared to have enhanced her power. I have seen it with my own eyes and Miss Summers' magic is definitely not the same as it was."

Remus thought back to the previous summer when Buffy had spent day and night catching up on her studies to be on par on with the others in her year. He remembered her frustration, her diligence, and, above all, he could now definitely recall her talent.

"She is picking up on magic much faster than she used to, and her spells are more powerful than they were before."

"Exactly. Although she was bright as a child, she still struggled with learning new magic as most children do, but I have noticed that it has become much easier for her. It may have more to do with her determination, but the power behind it, the essence of it, is much stronger, much more potent now."

It was her determination that caused her to learn an abundance amount of new magic in such a short time. It was her Slayer essence that caused those spells to become so powerful. But what about . . . what about everything else . . . ?

Dumbledore watched the lines form on Remus's brow, his eyes lost within his own world. He looked deeply worried and filled with uneasy questions.

"Remus?"

During the battle at the Department of Mysteries, there was too much to think about, to notice unless you planned on being killed, but now as Remus thought back, he hated to admit that it was starting to frighten him. How cleanly she fought. How she stood her own amongst the Death Eaters with so little personal experience against dark wizards. How easily it was to wave those spells.

The memory swam in Remus's mind even as he focused on the present, and when he responded , Dumbledore noted heavy discomfort in his voice.

"She's using magic I . . . I'm positive no one we know taught her. Magic that is not in any of her school books or in any of the books she would be given access to in the library."

Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair, but he didn't seem surprised, though Remus was too preoccupied with his own thoughts to notice.

"What sort of magic?" Dumbledore asked.

"As you know she's able to Apparate. She's able to cast non-verbal spells without so much as a blink, and sometimes . . . not even using a wand at all."

Buffy had taken the Prophecy from Lucius without a single wave, and during winter break, Remus had caught sight of her bed coverings removing themselves from her when she awoke as if by an invisible hand; he ignored it then, thinking his mind was playing tricks, but now it seems it may not have been. Wandless magic wasn't rare, but it was advanced, and with all the information Buffy had to remember just to keep up with her classes, he couldn't imagine her going beyond that just for fun.

"Yes, I was aware of all that. I had anticipated it," Dumbledore said, and upon admitting that, Remus focused all of his attention on the Headmaster. "As you had assumed, Remus, the magic she has been using is not one she's been taught. It is all based on instinct." He rose from his chair and walked over to a newborn Fawkes, who had sacrificed himself by taking a killing curse Voldemort had meant for Dumbledore during their battle and was now tiny and featherless resting on soft ashes on his golden post. "I have been pondering over it for some time. Since noticing the Dark Mark on Buffy's arm, I had worried if that was the only thing left of Voldemort's presence, but as it happens, it was not. It is not exactly known but estimated that Voldemort possessed Buffy for what may be a year; within that time he used countless amounts of magic, and doing so with no restraints, while possessing another being, can leave residuals."

"Residuals?" Remus asked not liking the sound of that one bit or the look of severity on Dumbledore's face.

"All the magic Buffy has been using, what we cannot account for, is the knowledge Voldemort left imprinted within her before he was pushed out of her body. It is his spells and abilities she's recalling."

The floor felt like it had been pulled out from under him, and Remus felt as if he was floating in cold air. His mind unable to grasp what he had just been told. The fear of the truth contorting his ability to think.

"His . . . are you saying that Voldemort transferred his powers to Buffy? Just as he did with Harry?"

If only it were that simple.

"When Voldemort failed in his attempt to kill Harry, and the curse rebounded, some of Voldemort's power transferred and inadvertently imbued Harry with certain abilities, yes, but it is not the same," he replied, omitting certain assumptions of how that transfer came to be as he was not sure of it himself yet. "When Voldemort possessed Buffy, in essence, they had become one. They shared a power. Although he took control of her mind and was able to separate one from the other as he wished, magic is not as simple. In order for Voldemort to have stayed in Buffy's mind as long he did, in order for him to channel his own power through her, he had to absorb himself, his essence, into her. Their magic had to combine. Overtime, with every spell cast, with every grain of knowledge he had to input into Buffy's mind for his power to come to fruition, every part of it left an imprint. That is why everything he had done while possessing her is subconsciously still within her brain. That is why Buffy is able to perform such advanced magic."

"So, it's almost as if he left a copy of himself without even realizing it," Remus said, trying to understand.

Dumbledore nodded.

"He may suspect it, but I don't believe he knows how deep it runs."

The puzzle began to take form and Remus filled in some of the pieces.

"That's why she's able to Apparate. Because she – well, Voldemort, had done it so many times."

"Precisely. Instinctively, she already knew what to do; it was just a matter of calling upon it."

All the new information was still slowly sinking in, after all, it was a lot to take in one sitting, and Remus's tired mind was still trying to figure it all out.

"What about his power? Does she have any traces of that?"

"Inadvertently, there may have been, but not anymore. Any links connecting her to Voldemort have been severed. All that's left now is – "

"The imprints," Remus finished off, nodding to himself that he finally understood the heavy meaning behind the word. And even though he was beginning to understand it all, what about Buffy? "Does Buffy know? Is she aware of when – "

"I believe she is. That's why she's able to Apparate on command, why she's able to wield magic she shouldn't know," Dumbledore responded confidently, but then his mind began to wonder. The wheels began to turn. And it suddenly seem very odd how . . . "Considering the circumstances, she shows remarkable control . . . " he thought out loud.

"Control . . . " Remus repeated, quickly jumping upon the same line of thought. There was something very strange about it. How easily Buffy can control magic she isn't supposed yet understand . . . it's almost as if . . . . "If Buffy does have Voldemort's knowledge trapped in her mind, and she's able to recall it on will . . . what if she's been holding back? What if she's unlocked all of that knowledge and she knows more than she lets on?"

The moment Remus pointed it all out, Dumbledore's mind began to race.

Those . . . were very good questions.

* * *

Notes: Inspiration seemed to have taken a vacation and is now groggily, lazily getting back to work. I re-watched all the HP movies to kick it in to gear, but all that really did was make me wanna see HPDH2 even more. If I had known it was going to take this long to I would've re-read all the books :)

Just because I love you guys and your support so much made a little video for the story, check out youtube .com/watch?v=rF1ooASznWA (remove space between youtube and .com for it to work)


	69. Chapter 69

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

Molly came to Grimmauld Place on Friday afternoon and found Joyce sleeping in a cot by Buffy and Sirius's beds in the first bedroom on the first floor. She set up her things in a room of her own, went down to the kitchen to put some stew on, and when she went to check on Joyce again, she yelped in surprise when she found Kreacher sitting against the wall by Buffy's bed.

And the yelp woke Joyce right up.

"So sorry, Joyce," Molly apologized, hand over her still rapidly beating heart. "Kreacher caught me by surprise is all."

"It's alright, Molly. It really wasn't much of a sleep anyway," Joyce said, who rose from her cot and went to stand beside her. "He's been sitting there since Remus left, just quietly keeping an eye on Buffy."

"Quietly?"

"Hasn't muttered a single word. I'm not used to it yet; it's quite unnerving."

Molly curiously looked at Kreacher as he looked at Buffy.

"He just sits there and watches over her?"

Joyce walked over to Buffy and pulled back the covers.

"After he changed her clothes, he has," she said, and Molly saw that Buffy was currently wearing her pajamas.

"What about Sirius?"

Joyce moved over and pulled back the covers from Sirius as well to reveal he too was in his pajamas.

"It was only after I told him that Buffy would be very grateful if he made Sirius as comfortable as possible, and right now Kreacher would do anything to get on Buffy's good side."

"On her good side?" she asked, her eyebrows knitted in confusion. "I thought Buffy liked Kreacher?"

Joyce sighed and sat down on the corner of Buffy's bed.

"Yes, well, you might want to sit down for this," she said, and Molly did just that and heard the twisting tale of Kreacher's betrayal while Kreacher silently ignored them, and the stew in the kitchen slowly simmered.

* * *

"Harry, we all saw them with our own eyes. We were the ones who pulled them out. Sirius is alive, and he and Buffy are fine," Hermione told him – again. "There's no need to send an owl."

"'sides, Dumbledore said you'd be able to see him once school's out," Ron reminded him.

"That's a week away," Harry pointed out. "I don't think I can wait that long."

They didn't really expect him to, but Harry didn't have to be in such rush. Sirius was alive, that's what mattered.

"At least wait a few days. Let him rest. It couldn't have been easy coming back," Ginny advised.

"Yeah, they knocked out once they came back. I'm sure it must've taken a lot out of 'em," said Neville.

Again it was wait, wait, wait, but it was easier to tolerate it from his friends than it had been from Remus and Dumbledore, and he heeded their advice for Sirius's sake . . . then he would send the letter he had already written, which was sealed and waiting underneath his pillow.

After having a long, good sleep, Harry wandered back to the Hospital Wing in the late afternoon. He was immensely glad when he found his friends awake and chatting away in good spirits. He took a chair and sat between Ron and Hermione's beds, while Luna and Ginny settled themselves on Neville's bed, head to foot and tossing, or trying to, bits of candy into each other's mouths.

"What is that?" Ron asked, eyeing the small orange colored box in Ginny's hands.

"Reese's Pieces," she said, hitting a bull's eye into Neville's awaiting mouth. "Susie brought 'em when she came by earlier."

"Reese's Pieces?"

"It's a Muggle-American candy, and according to Buffy, a very high contributor to cavities in children," Luna replied.

"Can I have some?" he asked, completely ignoring the warning of rotting teeth in Luna's explanation.

Ginny handed the box to Harry, who handed it to Ron, and after shaking out a few pieces, back the box went.

"Do you want some?" she asked Harry, just as he handed it to her, but he shook his head.

Ron popped one piece of candy into his mouth, chewed it, let the taste coat his tongue as if it were fine wine, and a delighted look appeared on his face. Then he began to shove them in as fast as he swallowed.

"Hey, Ginny, he likes it!" Neville said, and they both smiled at their little in-joke that Buffy had mentioned one or two times before.

"Where'd Susie get 'em?" Ron asked.

"Buffy. On the last day she went to visit her friends during Christmas break, she brought back a loaded stash of sorted Muggle-American sweets. She left most of them behind for us when she got expelled."

"Really," Hermione said more than curiously and oh-so nonchalantly asked, "What kind of sweets?"

"Let's see there's: Milk Duds, Red Vines, Peanut M&Ms, Skittles . . . "

"Jolly Ranchers?" she asked eagerly, and they all turned to her at her peculiar tone, her eyes nearly shining.

"Uh, yeah, I actually have a bag of 'em in my trunk," Ginny said, and couldn't help but smile, amused at Hermione's reaction.

"What's so jolly about Jolly Ranchers?" Ron asked.

"Nothing, I just happen to like them is all," Hermione said, regaining her composure as if her mouth had not really dripped with saliva. "I sometimes used them to help me study, at least when I had them. They're not widely available in England, so I haven't had them in a while."

"Susie's coming back later; I'll have her get 'em," Ginny said.

"No, it's –"

"I'll have her get 'em," she said again, and Hermione no longer put up a fight, her mouth already watering at the thought of her Jolly Rangers.

"You're a very odd girl, has anyone ever told you that?" Ron said to Hermione, who scowled, but did not feel the need to retort.

It became comfortably silent. Ginny, Neville and Luna went back to shooting Reese's Pieces at each other, and a few at Ron, who of course wanted to be included in the game, but was more of a receiver than a thrower.

Harry still had burning questions that were gnawing at his mind, questions that had to wait because asking them now would disturb the peace, and his friends were still recuperating. For everything they had done, the least he could do was let them rest, especially Ginny, Luna and Neville, because the questions he had were about Buffy, and those intruding questions that questioned her presence during last night's events wouldn't sit very well with her friends, especially since he would be asking to invade her privacy and jeopardize their loyalty.

* * *

Buffy and Sirius had made no progress the next day. They hadn't moved at all and lay like statues on their beds. Joyce and Molly had to keep checking their breathing to assure themselves that they still had signs of life, not an easy task for their nerves, especially Joyce, who found herself praying a little every time.

The house was quiet, just as Remus had expected it to be, like he feared it would be. Before he entered, he held out a little hope that he would hear Buffy's laughter or Sirius's cheeky comments, but it was silent, and that meant that nothing had changed.

"Here you are," Remus said, closing the dining room door behind him and walking over to the table where Joyce and Molly were having tea. "I thought you'd be upstairs. Though Kreacher still seems to be standing guard."

"I couldn't stand the quiet," Joyce said, and Molly patted her hand sympathetically. "Besides, even if I don't trust Kreacher, I know he'll look after Buffy and let us know if she wakes up. He may have betrayed her trust, but I don't think he would do anything to intentionally hurt her."

"Forgive me if I find that hard to believe," Remus said, sitting himself down. "It's partly his fault she's . . . " He couldn't find the right word, because none of them felt right, so he overstepped it. "He could just be staying there to make sure she stays the way she is," he grumbled angrily.

"Remus!" Molly quickly admonished

As soon as he said it and the moment he saw Joyce flinch, Remus was already regretful.

"I'm sorry, Joyce. I didn't –"

"I know," she said in a low voice, forgiving him because she understood his feelings, because she felt the same way. "I can barely stand the sight of him either, but when it comes to Buffy . . . I still think he has her best interests at heart."

"That he does. Though it may seem hard to believe at the moment."

"Albus," Remus said.

Dumbledore was standing at the doorway; his presence, as always, seemed to take up the entire room.

"Why didn't you let us know you were coming over?" Molly asked, all ready to pour another cup of tea.

"Thank you, Molly, but that won't be necessary," he said, putting up a hand to stop her from pouring a drop. "I'm afraid this will only be short visit. I would've come sooner, except I had some business in the forest to take care of," he said, and before anyone could ask any questions, "Now, if someone would please lead me to the patients."

All of three of them led Dumbledore upstairs, where he quickly went to work on examining Buffy and Sirius. He checked pulses, breathing and everything short of cutting them open. 'Hmm'-ing quite a few times.

"Physically they seem to be just fine, apart from that, it is hard to tell. Have they moved?"

"Not a twitch," said Joyce.

He 'hmm'd again.

"Well, I'm afraid that there is nothing I can do," he said, a sense of disappointment in his voice. "We must wait."

"For how much longer?" Joyce asked, nearly demanded. "It's been more than a day and they haven't even moved. Clearly that's not a good sign."

"I can understand your anxiousness, Joyce, but at the moment it would be too much of a risk to try anything blindly. I know how much we would like to keep this a secret, but if their condition doesn't improve within a week, I will personally bring a trusted healer to exam them. You have my word."

That would have to be enough, because, unfortunately, it was all anybody could do.

"Thank you," Joyce said, honestly grateful for his visit and his offer.

He smiled warmly, and then turned to Remus and Molly.

"May I speak with Joyce in private for a moment?" Dumbledore requested, and after Remus gave a furtive, questioning glance to Joyce, he and Molly left the room. And Kreacher, who had been silent and had not looked in their direction since they arrived, had also left them in peace, not wanting the Headmaster to deal with him directly, not after the last time.

Dumbledore moved to Buffy and gently raised her arm, lifted up her sleeve and stared at the Dark Mark that pulsed angrily on her skin.

"How long has it been here?" he asked.

"Since she was brought in," Joyce responded, still unnerved at the sight of it. "It hasn't stopped once. Every time I come to check on her, I also check her arm and it hasn't disappeared."

"He wants to her know," he muttered, lowered Buffy's sleeve and placed her arm back underneath the blanket. "He wants her to know that he is aware of what she had done. How she did what once was thought impossible. How she passed through the Veil of Death and returned from it. His curiosity has only grown now."

Joyce took a step closer to Dumbledore and wrapped her arms around herself. The conversion she had with Remus yesterday replaying in her mind.

"Remus . . . Remus told me what you had discussed. About what happened to Buffy while . . . do you really think she's unlocked Voldemort's knowledge?"

Remembering the conversation sent chills up Joyce's spine. The very thought that Voldemort had to fuse his power to Buffy's so he could commit whatever atrocities he had forced out of her wand filled her with disgust.

"You've seen her Apparate with your own eyes, Joyce. It's always been there, lying just beneath the surface. But we won't know the extent of it until she wakes. I'm afraid I won't be certain till then." His focus moved back to Buffy, and a deep sense of remorse came over him. "In light of recent events I feel I must apologize again to you, Joyce. I should've been more aware of what was occurring within my own castle. I should have seen the signs. If I only I had been more attentive . . . "

"It's not your fault, Albus. None of us noticed it. When Buffy came home for Christmas that year, she didn't seem any different. There were no signs. There's no one to blame. No one but Voldemort." Joyce moved to the other side of the bed, and as she looked at her daughter's peaceful face, she hoped that peace would soon cross over to her waking life. "She's been handling everything on her own since it happened. If . . . if she is starting to remember, I hope she'll let us in. I hope she realizes that she doesn't have to handle it all alone anymore."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully.

"Yes, that is my hope as well," he said.

Not too long after, Dumbledore left. He promised he would return again in a few days to check on their progress and requested to be informed if anything should change before then, and he sincerely hoped that they did.

"How's Tonks?" Joyce asked Remus after he and Molly re-entered the room, wanting to think of something else besides Voldemort.

"Awake. Which is more than I can say about these two." He paused for a moment. "You know, I'll bet this whole sleeping bit is a ruse just so they can get out of doing anything." They waited, but again, not even a twitch. "Didn't hurt to try."

No, it didn't, at this point Joyce had to resist pinching them just for a reaction.

"Are you going to the hospital again?" Molly asked.

Remus had been visiting Tonks at St. Mungo's since her first night there, and stayed for long periods of time. It was very sweet and very admirable, and Molly and Joyce were beginning to wonder if there was more to it than just that.

"I was planning on going tomorrow actually. Andromeda and Ted have been staying there, thought I'd give them a little break and – what?"

Molly and Joyce were looking at him in the strangest way, with large smiles and glittering eyes.

"Nothing," they both said flippantly.

* * *

_HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED RETURNS_

"_'In a brief statement on Friday night, Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge confirmed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned to this country and is active once more. 'It is with great regret that I must confirm that the wizard styling himself Lord - well, you know who I mean - is alive and among us again,' said Fudge, looking tired and flustered as he addressed reporters. 'It is with almost equal regret that we report the mass revolt of the Dementors of Azkaban, who have shown themselves averse to continuing in the Ministry's employ. We believe the Dementors are currently taking direction from Lord - Thingy. We urge the magical population to remain vigilant. The Ministry is currently publishing guides to elementary home and personal defense which will be delivered free to all wizarding homes within the coming month.' The Minister's statement was met with dismay and alarm from the wizarding community, which as recently as last Wednesday was receiving Ministry assurances that there was 'no truth whatsoever in these persistent rumors that You-Know-Who is operating amongst us once more'. Details of the events that led to the Ministry turnaround are still hazy, though it is believed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and a select band of followers (known as Death Eaters) gained entry to the Ministry of Magic itself on Thursday evening. Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, reinstated member of the International Confederation of Wizards and reinstated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, has so far been unavailable for comment. He has insisted over the past year that You-Know-Who is not dead, as was widely hoped and believed, but is recruiting followers once more for afresh attempt to seize power. Meanwhile, the 'Boy Who Lived' _–"

"There you are, Harry, I knew they'd drag you into it somehow," said Hermione, looking over the top of the paper at him.

They were still in the hospital wing, more as a precautionary measure than anything, so Madam Pomfrey had said as they were all in good health again. She had even tried to convince Harry to take up a bed just for a bit of rest but he would leave as soon as she had started to insist.

Harry was sitting on the end of Ron's bed, and they were both listening to Hermione read the front page of the Sunday Prophet. Ginny, whose ankle had been mended in a trice by Madam Pomfrey, was curled up at the foot of Hermione's bed; Neville, whose nose had likewise been returned to its normal size and shape, was in a chair between the two beds; and Luna who was in a chair by Hermione, clutching the latest edition of The Quibbler, was reading the magazine upside-down and apparently not taking in a word Hermione was saying.

"He's the 'boy who lived' again now, though, isn't he?" said Ron darkly. "Not such a deluded show-off any more, eh?"

He helped himself to a handful of Chocolate Frogs from the immense pile on his bedside cabinet, threw a few to Harry, Ginny and Neville and ripped off the wrapper of his own with his teeth.

"Yes, they're very complimentary about you now, Harry," said Hermione, scanning down the article. "'_A lone voice of truth . . . perceived as unbalanced, yet never wavered in his story . . . forced to bear ridicule and slander . . . _' Hmmm," she said, frowning, "I notice they don't mention the fact that it was them doing all the ridiculing and slandering in the Prophet . . . _'You-Know-Who's Last Attempt to Take Over, pages two to four, What the Ministry Should Have Told Us, page five, Why Nobody Listened to Albus Dumbledore, pages six to eight, Exclusive Interview with Harry Potter, page nine . . . '_ Well," said Hermione, folding up the newspaper and throwing it aside, "it's certainly given them lots to write about. And that interview with Harry isn't exclusive, it's the one that was in The Quibbler months ago . . . "

"Daddy sold it to them," said Luna vaguely, turning a page of The Quibbler. "He got a very good price for it, too, so we're going to go on an expedition to Sweden this summer to see if we can catch a Crumple-Horned Snorkack."

Hermione seemed to struggle with herself for a moment, then said, "That sounds lovely."

Ginny caught Neville's eye and they smiled.

"So, anyway," said Hermione, sitting up a little straighter, "what's going on in school?"

"I heard Flitwick's got rid of Fred and George's swamp," said Ginny, "he did it in about three seconds. But left a tiny patch under the window and he's roped it off."

"Why?" said Hermione, looking startled.

"Apparently it was a really good bit of magic," said Ginny, shrugging.

"I think he left it as a monument to Fred and George," said Ron, through a mouthful of chocolate. "They sent me all these, you know," he told Harry, pointing at the small mountain of Frogs beside him. "Must be doing all right out of that joke shop, eh?"

Hermione looked rather disapproving and asked, "So has all the trouble stopped now Dumbledore's back?"

"Everything's settled back to normal," said Harry.

"I s'pose Filch is happy, is he?" asked Ron, propping a Chocolate Frog Card featuring Dumbledore against his water jug.

"I doubt it," said Ginny, "He'd be really, really miserable. Remember . . . " She lowered her voice to a whisper. "He always said Umbridge was the best thing that ever happened to Hogwarts . . . "

All six of them looked around. Professor Umbridge was lying in a bed opposite them, gazing up at the ceiling.

Dumbledore had stridden alone into the Forest to rescue her from the centaurs; how he had done it - how he had emerged from the trees supporting Professor Umbridge without so much as a scratch on him - nobody knew, and Umbridge was certainly not telling. Since she had returned to the castle, she had not, as far as any of them knew, uttered a single word. Nobody really knew what was wrong with her, either. Her usually neat mousy hair was very untidy, and there were still bits of twigs and leaves in it, but otherwise she seemed to be quite unscathed.

"Madam Pomfrey says she's just in shock," whispered Hermione.

"Sulking, more like," said Ginny

"Yeah, she shows signs of life if you do this," said Ron, and with his tongue he made soft clip-clopping noises. Umbridge sat bolt upright, looking around wildly.

"Anything wrong, Professor?" called Madam Pomfrey, poking her head around her office door.

"No . . . No . . . " said Umbridge, sinking back into her pillows. "No, I must have been dreaming . . . "

Hermione and Ginny muffled their laughter in the bedclothes.

"Speaking of centaurs," said Hermione, when she had recovered a little, "who's Divination teacher now? Is Firenze staying?"

Before anyone could respond, Madam Pomfrey had come out of her office and walked over to the little gathering.

"Alright, you lot, it seems that Dumbledore has requested your release, despite my personal opinion. I would've preferred you rested a while longer, but as there is no concrete medical reason for you to stay, you can clear out."

Harry watched as everyone nearly jumped out of their places and began to gather whatever personal belongings they had collected on their brief stay. Within minutes, everyone was ready to go, and they continued their conversation as they went through the halls.

"So, about Divination, is Firenze staying?" Hermione asked again.

"He's got to," said Harry, "the other centaurs won't take him back, will they?"

"So, he and Trelawney are both going to teach?" asked Ginny and Harry shrugged in an 'I guess so' manner.

"Bet Dumbledore wishes he could've got rid of Trelawney for good," said Ron. "Mind you, the whole subject's useless if you ask me, Firenze isn't a lot better . . . "

"How can you say that?" Hermione demanded. "After we've just found out that there are real prophecies?"

Harry's heart began to race. He had not told Ron, Hermione or anyone else what the prophecy had contained. He was not ready to see their expressions when he told them that he must be either murderer or victim.

"I can't believe Buffy smashed it," said Hermione quietly, shaking her head.

"She had no choice, did she? If we'd have kept it, sooner or later they were gonna come looking for it," said Ron. The fact that he didn't jump at the chance to criticize Buffy when given the opportunity surprised everyone. It was as if the Earth had started to spin the other way. "Still, at least You-Know-Who never found out what was in it."

They had come at the point in the road where the Ravenclaw path was separate from the Gryffindor path, but before Luna could bid her farewells, Harry had a request.

"Luna, could I talk to you for a minute?" he asked, and then looked at Ginny and Neville. "Actually, I want to talk to the three of you."

Luna, Ginny and Neville looked at each other and they had an uncomfortable gut feeling about what the conversation would entail, because there was only thing that Harry would want to talk them about, one missing thread between them, and that was Buffy.

The Gryffindor common room was nearly empty, expect for a body or two, as everyone else was enjoying the hot June sun, and the group of six settled in a quiet corner on the far side of the room where they wouldn't be heard.

"Why was Buffy at the Department of Mysteries?" Harry asked bluntly. The question had been gnawing at Harry, because behind that question, there were a dozen more. Nobody was quick to respond and he pressed even more. "She came with the Order. She's been a part of it this whole time, hasn't she? They've all been keeping it a secret all this time."

Ginny, Neville and Luna glanced at each other; they had been expecting Harry's questions about Buffy's involvement in the Department of Mysteries, but what they couldn't believe was that Harry actually expected them to betray her trust.

It was as if a silent message had been conveyed between the three of them, and Ginny looked at Harry with a hard expression.

"We don't know anything," she said firmly, and he didn't buy it.

"Don't give me that!" he said.

"Don't take that tone with me," she chastised him. "If we don't know anything, it's for a reason. Buffy has the right to keep whoever she wants out of her business."

"Not if her business involves us," Hermione said, wanting answers as much as Harry.

"How does it involve you? The Order has the right to let whoever they want join. If she's part of the Order, it's not because she bribed herself in, it's because they chose to let her, and whatever reasons they have for doing it is their business as much as hers; it has nothing to do with you, with any of us."

"We couldn't join because we were underage, but so is she. If they let her in there has to be a really good reason why," Harry said. "You expect us to believe that you've done nothing but spend time with her this whole year and you don't know anything!"

"It doesn't matter if we do," Neville spoke up calmly. "Buffy doesn't have to explain herself to anybody. Like Ginny said, if they asked her to join, it's because they wanted her to, whatever their reasons are. She's allowed to keep her secrets just like anybody else."

"But it isn't just about the Order, is it? It's something else," Hermione said, and everyone turned to her curiously. "It's the reason behind it. Of why they let her join and not us."

Neville and Ginny eyed her suspiciously. It almost sounded as if Hermione knew that Buffy was . . . but no, she couldn't. Not unless Buffy had told her, and they knew she hadn't. And if Hermione didn't know, what exactly was she implying? Or was she trying to trick them into revealing what they knew?

"Everyone has a right to their own secrets," Luna said in her serene voice and looked at Harry and Hermione, "Even you." The combination of her stare and the clear consciousness of her words were not something Harry and Hermione were used to, and it was making them uncomfortable. "You've held your own secrets and none of us have asked you to reveal them. As long as they don't hurt anybody, I don't see a reason why a secret needs to be told at all. Plain curiosity isn't good enough, especially not when the person whose secrets you've asked to expose has respected others needs for privacy. And I don't think it's very nice to ask a person's friends to betray their trust." She stood up from her seat, and avoided looking at anyone. "I don't think I want to be a part of this conversation anymore. I'd rather be alone for a while."

And they all watched her until she stepped out of the portrait hole and out of their line of sight. Neville and Ginny stood up right after and left without a word, but not before giving Harry and Hermione disapproving glares.

"You should've known they weren't going to tell you anything," Ron said, breaking his silence on the topic of conversation. "It'll be like if someone asked me and Hermione to spill a secret about you, Harry."

There was that whole Earth spinning in the wrong direction moment again.

"Ron, I thought you'd wanna know about this more than anyone?" Hermione questioned.

He shrugged.

"For now, I know all I need to know," he replied mysteriously, and didn't wish to talk about it anymore. "Harry, didn't you say Hagrid was back?" Harry nodded, and Ron rose to his feet. "Come on then, I'm bettin' he's gonna wanna hear all about what happened to his Grawpy while he was away. Or if there's anything left of him. You know we really should've checked and made sure the centaurs didn't kill him . . . or if he left any of them alive. For all we know there could be centaur pieces hanging off the trees . . . "

And, after exchanging confused glances, Harry and Hermione followed Ron out of the common room and all the way to the Forbidden Forest as he rambled on about centaur pieces decorating the forest floor.

* * *

It was quiet. Really quiet. There were no voices. No noises. Not even the sound of a ticking clock. It was . . . serenely quiet. And it was the perfect way to wake up from a very long sleep.

Slowly, two sets of eyes opened, and two bodies inhaled and exhaled deeply, sounding completely, utterly relaxed.

The room was lit in a very dim light that was perfect for their sensitive eyes, and after they quickly surveyed their surroundings, their eyes met and they smiled.

"You look like hell," said Sirius.

"Still prettier than you," Buffy retorted.

"Never," he replied, and they smiled again. "How do you feel?"

She thought about it for a moment.

"Like . . . warm beach sand. You?"

He thought about it.

"Sounds about right," he agreed with a nod.

"I'm kinda surprised. Thought there'd aches and pains. But I feel–"

"Surprisingly well rested?"

"Surprisingly."

They started off into nothingness in silence for a moment, enjoying the calmness of the atmosphere.

"How long do you think we've been out?" he asked.

Buffy looked at her hands and at the ends of her hair.

"Well, my hair and nails aren't noticeably longer, so I suspect not very long."

"What brilliant use of deduction," he said rolling his eyes and if she didn't feel so jell-o like she would've thrown a pillow at him. "Did you dream?"

Oh, did she ever, and she nodded.

"It was weird. Was it weird for you?" she asked.

He placed his arm behind his head and stared at nothing in particular as he tried to recollect his dreams.

"I was having this really odd one where I was an actor, you know the ones. They come out in those big screen-like things, get paid loads of money for lying to people and having no particular talent at all . . . "

"A movie actor?" she asked grinning.

"That's the one. I was one of those, and I was playing all these strange roles, too. I think . . . I think I was playing a musician – a rocker, in one of them. And . . . a vampire somewhere down the line . . . there's more but . . . " he said and then just trailed off, becoming lost in the memories of his dream world.

"That is weird," Buffy commented and silently began to recall her own dreams. One in particular . . .

_Scattered palm trees, rocks and scraggly bushes were the only things that lay in the desert. The only things she could see. But there was a sound. The sound of a woman humming, and it followed her wherever she went._

"_I'm never gonna find them here," Buffy said, not knowing who she was speaking to, but knowing someone was there._

_Off in the distance a figure appeared. Bright red hair and small._

"_Of course not. That's the reason you came," Willow said, though her mouth did not move._

_She disappeared from sight and reappeared right before Buffy._

"_You're not in my dream," Buffy said, and her mouth did not move either. Their voices had disembodied themselves and spoke over them._

"_I was borrowed. Someone has to speak for her."_

"_Let her speak for herself." Buffy could now feel the power closer. Feel _her_ closer. "That's what's done in polite circles."_

_The one, the her, with the power appeared. Her skin was dark and her hair pitch black, matted into coils all over her head. Her nails were long and sharp, a weapon in themselves. Her face was painted white except for the black paint streaked across her eyes. She was dressed in rags, and her behavior was primitive. Her body crouched low and stalked around Buffy._

"_Why do you follow me?" Buffy asked, her eyes on the woman, and the woman shook her head._

"_I don't," Willow responded for her._

_Both their mouths now forming the words._

"_Where are my friends?"_

"_You're asking the wrong questions."_

"_Make her speak," Buffy demanded of Willow, but the woman shook her head again._

"_I have no speech. No name. I live in the action of death, the blood cry, the penetrating wound," Willow said, and the woman straightened up and looked Buffy in the eye. "I am destruction. Absolute . . . alone."_

_Alone, angry and battle weary, she must be . . . _

"_The Slayer," Buffy said with a frown._

"_The first," Willow clarifies._

"_I am not alone," Buffy said firmly._

"_The Slayer does not walk in this world."_

"_I walk. I talk. I shop, I sneeze. I'm gonna be a fireman when the floods roll back. There's trees in the desert since you moved out. And I don't sleep on a bed of bones. You are not the source of me."_

_The first Slayer could no longer keep silent, and she spoke, her voice hoarse and low._

"_The source . . . the first . . . He powerful . . . I strong . . . I win . . . "_

"_Your victory became my curse. The battle is not over. Nothing has been won."_

"_Not curse . . . strong . . . Chosen . . . he not finish . . . need to be . . . strong . . . powerful . . . "_

"_Tell me what I want to know."_

_The first Slayer shook her head._

"_Can not know . . . must feel . . . you . . . one in same . . . you alone . . . Chosen . . . im-por-tant . . . "_

"_Important? How?"_

_The first Slayer shook her head again. She walked over to Buffy and placed a finger upon the spot where her heart was beating. _

"_Im-por-tant," she said._

_And when Buffy looked at her face, looked into her eyes, she saw that there was no savageness, no anger, no hate in them. She saw their sadness, their loneliness, their determination. And she saw them turn hazel. And she saw as the first Slayer disappeared and in her place was Buffy's own image. A copy of herself._

"_This is who we are. What we must do. We have to be strong," the Buffy copy said. "You think you know . . . what's to come . . . you haven't even begun . . . "_

_A strong wind spread across the desert and Buffy watched as it slowly blew away her twin as if she were made of sand and everything fell into darkness._

It was almost hypnotizing. Buffy couldn't help but remember it all over again. Scrutinize every scene of the dream for a hidden answer she might have missed. But what if it wasn't just a dream? What if it was something else? A vision? A warning? It wouldn't be the first time Buffy's dreams were a caution of things to come. She had met the first Slayer, something she had never thought about before, but being in her presence, seeing her eyes, knowing who it all started with . . .

"Buffy . . . Goldilocks . . . Anyone home?"

It was unknown how many times Sirius called her name, but when Buffy finally registered it, she slowly came out of her thoughts and focused on him.

"What?"

"I asked what your dreams were about. Are you okay? You were out of it for a while."

She nodded quickly; the go to act that would buy her sometime to cleverly reorganize her thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I was just trying to remember it – you know the dream."

"And?"

And it was a dream that made her so uneasy with questions that she didn't want to worry anyone with it just yet.

"It's all sorta faded away now, but I think I remember something about cheese," she said.

"Cheese?"

The door slowly pried open and someone stepped in back first as if they were trying to sneak in unnoticed. Then as quietly as possible they shut the door closed and turned around.

"Oh my . . . !" Molly exclaimed, startled at seeing Buffy and Sirius wide awake and staring at her.

"Hello, Molly."

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley."

"You're . . . you're awake! Oh my goodness, l-look at you!" she said joyfully. "You're both awake!"

There was a thunderous sound of running footsteps, then the door burst open, and Joyce and Remus rushed in.

"Kreacher said . . . " Joyce began, and when her eyes fell upon Sirius and Buffy, her face lit up like a Christmas tree. She ran over and flung herself on them, enveloping them in her arms, and Molly and Remus weren't too far behind.

It was a flurry of love. There were hugs and kisses and hugs again. They repeated phrases: 'We were so worried', 'You're awake!', 'Are you all right?' and so on and so on. And at some point during the middle of it all, Sirius and Buffy locked eyes and knew what the other was thinking, _We should've stayed asleep_.

"Oh, Dumbledore!" Molly exclaimed suddenly, after releasing Buffy from her umpteenth hug. "He said he wanted to know as soon as you two woke up. Better send an owl now before it slips my mind."

"Would you mind sending one to Mad-Eye and Kingsley as well? They've been asking every time I see them," Remus asked.

"Right, right. I'll send one to Arthur, too. He's been so worried," Molly said, and her joyous smile returned as she looked at Sirius and Buffy, upright and eyes bright. "I'm so glad both of you are alright."

Everyone was. They were happy and grateful and relieved. It was a splendid reunion of sorts. It was wonderful, but the moment the door closed, it all calmed down and Joyce, who had been standing in between the two beds, appeared calmer than anyone, in a very eerie sort of way.

"Are you alright? See straight? Know how many fingers?" she asked Buffy and Sirius, raising up her hand and giving what looked like a peace sign.

"Yes."

"Yes."

"Two."

"Good, because I want you alert enough to understand what I'm about to say," she said, and any traces of calmness left her face. "How could the both of you do something so stupid? Do have any idea of what you had done? How much you could've lost? What was going through your minds? Were you even using your brains at all?"

"Joyce– " Sirius began.

"How could you let that happen?" she asked, focusing entirely on him. "Did you think it was a game? You went to save them! That's all you were supposed to do! And because of you, look at what happened!"

"Hey! I did what I had to do! I–"

"I know what you did! Instead of getting Harry and the others out, you decided to play. Been cooped up in this house for so long, and at the first chance of freedom, you get you go against someone who wants you dead! Did you think Bellatrix was just playing? Do you think any of them were?"

"Mom, that's not fair, that's not what happened," Buffy interceded.

"I understand that it wasn't easy, I knew going to the Department of Mysteries wasn't going to be," Joyce said, her focus still on Sirius. "But this . . . how could you put Buffy at risk? How could you let her do something like that?"

"He didn't let me do anything!" Buffy argued, hating it when her mother spoke as if she weren't there. "It was my choice. I was the one who went after him. He couldn't stop me. Nobody could."

"And look at where that got you," Joyce said, finally focusing on her. "I don't understand how the thought could have even crossed your mind? How could you make such an idiotic decision without knowing the consequences?"

"It was the right thing to do!"

"It was suicide! You didn't know what was going to happen, Buffy! It was completely irresponsible! You didn't know anything about that Veil. You still don't. What if you hadn't found your way back? What if you and Sirius had returned in pieces? What if all that came back were empty bodies? It was dangerous – careless! Buffy, you can't jump into these things so lightly. You have to think them through!"

"So, I was just supposed to leave Sirius in that place? I shouldn't have even tried to save him?"

"No, that's not –"

"If I hadn't gone in after him, he wouldn't be here now, and you can't tell me you're not happy about that. You can't tell me you're not happy I brought him back," she said, challenging her to disagree. "You wouldn't have wanted him to stay there, not if there was a chance that he didn't have to."

She was happy, insanely happy Sirius was still alive – that they both were, but no matter how happy Joyce was, she couldn't escape the fear that grappled her heart on the what ifs, on the horror that could've been.

"Buffy, even after all this time . . . no matter how fast you've had to grow up, how many hard decisions you've had to make, you still don't understand." She had sounded so angry before, nearly hysterical, but now, after taking a pause to let Buffy's argument sink in, she sounded tired, almost sad, and her focus shifted away from just Buffy alone, she was now looking at both of them, and her expression was indescribable. "Your choices don't only affect you. You maybe strong enough to risk everything, but that doesn't mean we're strong enough to lose you." Any anger, any need for reprimanding them disappeared. Joyce felt deflated, as if every emotion that had coursed through her body moments ago escaped, leaving behind nothing but a need for a silence. "Get some rest. I'll send up something to eat in a little while."

Without another word, without so much as a look back, she left, but the emotions she had caused still lingered

"I liked it better when she was yelling," Buffy said, guilt plainly expressed on her face, one that Sirius mirrored as well.

"It's been very hard on her these past few days," Remus explained to them. "We've had to sit by and wait for you to wake up. There was nothing we could do. It wasn't easy for anyone. You can't be mad at her for being upset, even if she did say things she might already regret."

No, they couldn't be mad. Her words had been hurtful, and their sting still lingered, but knowing, and understanding, the amount of fear that they had put her through caused their own hurt to be put aside.

"How long have we been out?" Buffy asked, wanting to forget the look on her mother's face. The look of sadness, tiredness and anger she had caused.

"Four days."

"Four days?" Sirius exclaimed.

Buffy couldn't help but mentally calculate the time frame.

"Must be Tuesday," she said to herself, and then commented to Remus, "that's a really long time to be asleep."

"You're telling me."

"Did anyone at least try to wake us up?" asked Sirius.

"We were close to setting you on fire if that makes you feel better."

"Loads," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"How's everyone else? Did everyone make it out of the Department of Mysteries all right?" Buffy asked.

Remus nodded.

"They all made it out. Some with a few bruises but all right. Tonks is currently at St Mungo's, but she's fine, she'll be released tomorrow."

"Death Eaters?" asked Sirius.

"Most of them arrested," he said, then looked at Buffy. "Lucius Malfoy included."

Buffy closed her eyes, Draco's face immediately coming to mind. Mr. Malfoy may not be Grade A father material. He could be a downright bully, but he was still Draco's father, and there was love there, even respect, and Buffy could only imagine the anger boiling up in Draco right now.

"Tell us everything," Sirius told Remus, adjusting himself under the covers. "It's not like we're going anywhere anytime soon."

No, they weren't and Buffy was just as eager to hear the tale of the lost weekend as Sirius was.

"Okay," Remus said, nodding. There was only one place to start, and although he didn't want to be the one to tell them, especially Buffy, they deserved every right to know. He just hoped Buffy wouldn't be too hurt about it. "First of all, you should know . . . Kreacher betrayed us . . . "

* * *

Notes: Thank you again for continuing to read the story despite its longness :)


	70. Chapter 70

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

It still hurt, as being betrayed often does, even by the next afternoon, even after spending a sleepless night recounting and discussing everything Remus had told them with Sirius; even after all that, Buffy, if given the choice, would not lay eyes on Kreacher, not knowing what she would do or say if she did. And as it happens, Kreacher, with all his guilt, was doing them both a favor by choosing not to face her either.

Their lunches popped on top of their laps, just as their dinner had done the day before, and their breakfasts that morning, and it didn't take a genius to figure out who was popping them in.

"He's still avoiding you," Sirius said, who hadn't been all that surprised at Kreacher's betrayal; angry yes, surprised no. He had expected it to happen sooner or later.

"At least physically," she said morosely. "But he's been trying to get on my good side. He left a fresh glass of water for me this morning."

"How do you know it was him?"

"He put it in a special glass." She lifted the glass from her night stand and showed it to him. There was really nothing special about it, except for the crude 'B' that was etched into it. "He kinda christened it as mine since last summer. Every time he brings me something to drink, it's the same one."

"That sneaky bastard. Where's my water? You betrayed me too you know!" he yelled at the ceiling with a shaking fist. He had so far held his fiery tongue on badmouthing the house-elf for Buffy's sake, knowing bashing Kreacher would not lift her spirits, but this was the last straw. Where was his water, damn it?

"He doesn't like you, remember?"

She'd been smiling; a little teasing sort of smile as she spoke, but then the smile disappeared and she stared sullenly into the water glass that she had rested on her tray.

"You're going to forgive him," he said, knowing exactly where her mind had gone. "It's in your nature, Buffy. Despite everything you've been through, you still have that nasty little habit of trying to see the good in people...or things."

A nasty habit that didn't always let her down, and even now, despite the hurt and the anger, Buffy could understand Kreacher's position, his alliance to Narcissa, to the Black Family name, and that's why she knew she wouldn't stay angry. There was good inside of Kreacher, she had experienced it first hand, but even if she did forgive him, her trust was severed; her confidence in him would never be the same. And it hurt to know she could never fully trust him again.

Buffy and Sirius spent the remainder of their lunch in relative quiet; there was nothing much that needed to be said that hadn't already been discussed to draining measure, and once Sirius brought up the subject of putting paisley curtains in the room, Buffy put all conversation to a halt.

As the food that had been on their plates was now nearly all in their bellies, a knock came to the door just before it opened, and Molly came in quietly, almost as if she expected them to still be sleeping.

"Almost done with your lunches, I see," she said after peering at their trays. "How are you both feeling? Good?"

"Wouldn't run a marathon, but could walk around a mall," Buffy said, and Molly smiled.

"Dumbledore's here to see the both of you, if you're both feeling up to it, that is?"

"'course we are," Sirius replied, and he and Buffy moved their trays aside.

Molly walked out and when she returned, she brought Joyce, Remus and Dumbledore, and at the sight of the grandfatherly Headmaster, Buffy and Sirius felt an instant sense of warmth fill the room.

There they were, just as Molly had promised, awake and looking just fine. The relief Dumbledore felt was immeasurable, and he silently thanked whoever was responsible for bringing them out of the woods and back to the light.

"Now, this is much, much better," he said smiling, and asked the golden question that everyone else had asked since they had awoken. "How are you feeling?"

"Live and kickin'."

"Yes, it would appear so," he said, pleased to know that Buffy's personality had not been affected at all by her experience. He went over and stood between their two beds, wand out and ready. "Now let's make sure everything is up to the same standard." Buffy and Sirius sat there as Dumbledore did his examinations. He checked their breathing, their heartbeats, looked inside their ears, checked their eyes, asked questions and did all the other stuff that a basic physical exam consisted of. After he finished his poking and prodding, he stood between them again and looked even more relieved. "Well, I am very pleased to say they are in top shape; may even be better than new. Seems that bit of rest did both of you some good."

"Too much good and still going," Buffy said, and jutted her chin over to where Remus, Molly and Joyce were standing. "They won't even let us get out of bed."

"Not true, we drew the line at chamber-pots, remember?" said Remus.

"Thank god."

"Hmm, my assumption is that may have been more for their benefit than yours," Dumbledore said to Buffy.

"He's right," said Joyce, loving Buffy and Sirius, but not loving the thought of touching a bed pan.

They were perfectly fine mentally and physically, and their spirits appeared just as solid, and as he looked at Buffy, Dumbledore knew that there was no time better.

"Would it be alright if I spoke with Buffy alone for a moment?" he requested.

Joyce and Remus looked at each other, surprise and worry evident on their faces. They knew why Dumbledore wanted to talk to Buffy, but they hadn't expected it so soon, not while she was still recovering, and it made them uneasy.

"Is something wrong?" asked Sirius, his eyes glancing between Remus, Joyce, Dumbledore and an out of the loop Buffy.

Sirius hadn't been the only one to notice Remus and Joyce's strange behaviour; Molly, who had not been told the entire story of Buffy's experiences during her second year and had also not been told of the questionable ramifications of said experiences that had recently come to light, began to wonder as well.

"Nothing's the matter, there are just a few things I wish to discuss with her in private," replied Dumbledore.

"Albus, don't you think it's too soon?" Joyce asked her voice low. "It's only been a day. She needs to rest, her strength is-"

"Just as it was before. She is in perfect health both mentally and physically. I cannot think of a better time than now," he said.

"A better time for what?" Buffy asked cautiously.

"Her magic has been through something traumatic, it can be unstable," Remus said. "She just woke up; she may still need a few more days to-"

"Now as is as good time as any," Dumbledore said patiently. "She has rested for four days and is at full strength in every sense of the word. I know you are both worried, but we must use this moment to our advantage, now, when her mind is at the most ready."

"Use what to our advantage? What is going on?" Buffy demanded.

Remus and Joyce again looked at each other, unsure if they should keep up their argument or put their faith in Dumbledore. They all wanted answers, but not if Buffy's state was too fragile and getting those answers had the possibility of doing more damage than good.

"Are you absolutely positive about this?" Joyce asked the Headmaster sternly.

"Completely," he replied as gently as possible.

"And it has to be in private?" asked Remus.

"It will work much better if we are alone. It requires Buffy's full concentration."

Not being absolutely sure of Buffy's health, not knowing what Dumbledore planned to do, not knowing what sort of answers might be found, not knowing any of this caused great hesitance in Joyce and Remus, and their need for protecting Buffy was not an easy thing to overcome, but being in the presence of the ever steady Dumbledore, with all the uneasiness they felt, made them feel as if they were school children again, looking to the Headmaster for guidance as he always seemed to have all the answers. So, not seeing much of an alternative, they put their faith in Dumbledore and nodded their approval.

"Hold on! I'm not going anywhere until someone tells us what's going on," Sirius demanded.

"Sirius, please," Joyce said almost tiredly.

"Don't _Sirius_ me, I want to know–"

"It's about what happened to Buffy three years ago," Remus said interrupting him, and Sirius immediately went silent when he realized what he meant. "We'll explain everything in the other room."

What happened three years ago was a very sensitive subject for all of them, but most importantly for Buffy, and as Sirius looked to her, he could see by the expression on her face that she understood what was going on as well, and he wanted to make sure she, above anyone else, would agree to bring the subject back up again.

"Are you alright with this?" Sirius asked the considerate question no one else seemed to have thought to ask.

Was she alright with this? Was she alright with the fact that they just assumed she would agree without even asking?

"Were you even going to ask me if it was okay?" she asked her mother, Remus and Dumbledore, and a jolt of embarrassment came when they realized how they had behaved.

"Buffy, it's not that we-" Remus tried to explain, but Buffy wouldn't give him the chance to weasel an excuse.

"Yes, it is," she said curtly. "You talk about me like I'm not even here and expect me to just go along with whatever you say. It is my head you're trying to get into; don't you think I should at least have a say in it?"

In all shameful honesty, it hadn't even occurred to them to ask for her permission. Buffy was a Slayer and a member of the Order, and yet there were times when they still treated her like a child, expecting her to follow orders without question when it was more convenient for them to do so. Well, it was high time they realized that Buffy wasn't just another childish face, and that she was just as important a member of the Order as they were, and that her participation, when asked, mattered as well.

"You're right, of course you do," Dumbledore said, speaking to her as an adult, because she had forced that light upon herself, and the least he could do was respect it from now on. "Buffy, would it be alright if I spoke to you alone?"

That's better.

"Yes," she replied, glad it finally got through to them.

"Good enough for me, let's go," Sirius said to Remus and tossed his covers aside.

Buffy had no qualms speaking about what happened to her. She had come to terms with it this past year, and accepted the fact that she would have to talk about it for a good time to come (at least while Voldemort was still alive). She was prepared for anything they threw at her. It was just nice for them to have asked first.

Even now, Joyce had not completely changed her attitude towards Buffy and Sirius; she spoke to them as little as possible, and even then her words weren't exactly touching, but her daughter needed her to be on her side, and her cold shoulder warmed up a little.

As Remus helped Sirius out of bed so they could move to the next room, Joyce walked over to Buffy and quietly said, "Molly doesn't know about what happened to you while you were...you know." While Voldemort decided to make her his play thing? Or something less perverted sounding. "After hearing all this, she will have questions; whatever you want us to say is up to you."

Buffy looked over at Mrs. Weasley, who was assisting Remus with Sirius, despite the fact that Sirius insisted he did not need any help, and she thought back to how kind and warm and loving Mrs. Weasley had always been toward her. How much she loved not only her own children with such fervor, but how that love also accepted Harry as one of her own. And how there were not enough words to explain how much Mrs. Weasley had grown to mean to her.

"Tell her...tell her about the possession," Buffy said and turned to her mother. "But not about the Mark o-or anything specific."

Joyce nodded compliantly, figuring as much.

If her mother hadn't patted her shoulder, if Remus, Sirius and Mrs. Weasley hadn't thrown worried looks her way before they left, Buffy would've felt just fine, but with all this unknown going on, being left alone with Dumbledore was starting to freak her out.

"Secrets are more a burden then they are worth, aren't they?" Dumbledore said the moment the door closed in a soft click.

"They've been nothing but a pain in my ass since I was thirteen," Buffy replied instantly, and then she realized what she had said and whom she had said it to. "Sorry."

Dumbledore smiled dismissively; he had said much worse in his day.

"Buffy, do you remember everything that happened to you at that age?"

"You're really asking if I remember everything that happened with Voldemort at that age, aren't you?" she asked perceptively.

"Yes," he replied bluntly.

Buffy leaned back and rested all her weight against the headboard, getting comfortable for the long conversation she knew was to come.

"The memories are all kinda mushed together now, but I do...even more than I'd like."

With that phrase, and the look of resentment in her eyes, Dumbledore knew, he knew all of her memories had been unlocked, just as they had believed they had been. And what was important now was to know how conscious she was of that knowledge and how much she knew she could access.

"A burden, I'm positive those memories are," he said. "But I am sure they hold some hidden treasures as well." Buffy looked at him curiously, but didn't speak, knowing Dumbledore wasn't finished. "Buffy, haven't you wondered, after all this time, why you're able to Apparate without having been taught how to do so?"

Answering that one question could very well answer them all, and as Buffy's eyes turned gray and serious, Dumbledore could almost see the answer in them.

"I know why," she said quietly. "It's...it's because he did, right? Because he'd done it so many times while he pulled my strings that it just sort of stuck in my system after he left."

Her answer was so astute that it surprised him.

"How did you come to that conclusion?" he asked.

"Well...that's the funny thing about getting all your memories back. You start putting the pieces together and get a whole new picture you didn't even know about."

And, boy, what a picture that turned out to be.

"And though the memories may be unpleasant, at the very least it gives you the answers you may have been searching for, and in part, some closure," he said wisely.

Buffy smiled. "Is there some sort of handbook you memorized about always knowing what to say?"

"If only," he said smiling. "No, I'm afraid there are times when I find even myself at a loss for answers, but at my age you've learned to pick up on a few things as well."

And at times, those few things benefitted the people around him a great deal.

"Personally speaking, closure sounds comforting but I don't think I'll have any of it until Voldemort's laying a hundred feet under, embalmed in concrete," Buffy said.

"A hope that is shared by all on our side, and we are working very hard to make that hope a reality, but right now we have other matters discuss," he said. "I do believe you were correct. The reason you are able to Apparate is because Voldmort embedded the ability within you. And I can't help but wonder if Apparating is the only, shall we say, side effect that remains from your experience with Voldemort? Aside from the memories, of course."

Dumbledore wasn't the only one who had tendency to pick up on things, and Buffy smiled a little at how sly he was trying to be.

"No, but I'm guessing you already knew that," she said, and it amused him at how clever she was revealing herself to be.

"I have noticed some things myself, and some that have been brought to my attention," he replied in a breezy tone, and she smiled again.

"Which means you already know what I can do. The wandless and wordless of it."

He nodded slowly.

"Your magic is at a level that is much more advanced for someone of your age. And as bright as I know you are, I don't believe it was all learned, correct?"

She shook her head slightly.

"It's like with Apparating. I can just sort of _do_ things without trying, and I'm not gonna lie, it's come in handy a few times," she said, remembering how the talent of just _doing_ certain things had saved her butt while performing her slayage, and then the not so fun times like when she first learned she could Apparate by popping herself into the middle of a lake on a particularly hot and thirsty day, freaked, then realized what she had done and managed to pop herself back to her room in L.A with no one the wiser, and it was pretty safe to say that wasn't the last time accidental Apparating made an appearance in her life. "When it usually happens, the mysterious magic stuff, it's like...instinct. I just react. Even now, thinking back to the things I've done, I can't even tell you how I did it. What spells, what charms I used. It's mostly all a blank until it's done...b-but it doesn't go haywire," she said, quick to clarify so Dumbledore wouldn't think she was a loose cannon. "I'm not just tossing spells all willy-nilly, I know what I'm doing, I just can't...label them, I guess is the right way to explain it."

The knowledge appeared to be deeply ingrained in the recesses of her mind and power. It flicked into action automatically, like breathing or blinking when necessary. Luckily she had formed some sort of control over it, but how deep that control was and how far that knowledge went was what he was here to discover.

"Buffy, there's something I'd like for you to do for me," Dumbledore said.

"Sure, anything."

He took a hold of Buffy's discarded tray and placed it back in front of her, moving aside the plate, glass and cutlery from its surface.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked his hand in front of her.

A tiny little object appeared out of thin air, squeezed right in between the tips of his thumb and forefinger. It was light brown, oddly shaped, damned near impossible to see unless you knew where it was, but very obviously...

"A seed?" she asked, perplexed at the randomness of it.

Dumbledore gave a slight nod and placed the seed on the tray.

"Listen to me carefully," he said, his voice gentle. "I want you to close your eyes and concentrate on the object. Focus your mind. Let your magic flow naturally. Do you understand?"

Buffy wanted to nod, it was much easier to nod, but the nod would be a lie.

"Uh...not really. What am I concentrating on exactly? Moving it? Duplicating it? Cooking it?"

"Concentrate on doing whatever your instincts tell you," he instructed, his voice low and soothing. "Let them lead you...let your power guide you...open your mind to all possibilities..."

Okay, vague much. _Let your power guide you_...guide her to what? It was a seed, not a yellow brick road.

Buffy eyed Dumbledore carefully, hoping his expression would somehow reveal exactly what he was after in this little experiment, but as it happens, Dumbledore was no easier to read than a chemistry book. He just kept looking at her like she knew what she was supposed to do, which she would have if he'd just tell her what the _do_ was. Being all mysterious and know-all-y may be good for the image, but not so much for those on the receiving end of all the mystery. Adults. Why do they always have to make things so damn complicated?

It was obvious that there were no answers coming her way, not with Dumbledore looking at her like she was the one who had the vast pool of knowledge, and Buffy had to admit she was more than a little curious herself at what she might find if she opened her mind and let whatever subconscious power she held stretch out. Maybe being a little lost was the best way to discover where you're supposed to be.

With one last wry look at Dumbledore, and leaving behind most of her inhibitions, Buffy straightened up, took a deep breath and focused all of her attention on the tiny little seed on her tray.

She stared at the tiny thing with its odd shape and light brown color; she stared at it for so long that soon it was the only thing she could see.

The images around her gradually faded away. Light and sound disappeared to nothingness. She could no longer feel connected to the atmosphere around her. She couldn't feel the temperature, the energy of other beings in the room, the sheets or mattress that lay underneath her. She couldn't sense anything aside from her source of focus, and questions quickly roamed her mind. What did the seed belong to? What would grow from it? How would it look like? Questions burned her curiosity. She wanted to see. She wanted to see the seed grow right before her eyes, to see it bloom. She wanted to see it so desperately that it was the only thing she could think of...and soon the seed started to move...

The tiny, light brown seed with its odd shape started to tremble. Its movement minute, barely even noticeable, but then trembles began to grow, and soon, it was shaking rapidly in all directions. It jumped on the tray and spun in circles with a life of its own, but then shaking and the tumbling calmed and it turned into rocking. It rocked like an egg trying to hatch. And it kept rocking even as it started to float.

The seed moved straight up with no disruptions and it did not stop until it was directly in front of Buffy's eyes. The rocking motion slowed down and it was still again, but soon it began to twitch. Stretching itself out bit by bit until it finally created a split right down the middle, and something very light green, almost white, sprouted out.

It unfurled slowly, stretching as if it had awoken from a long sleep. The light green seedling expanded out further, growing rapidly and deeper in color. Its once smooth surface split in three different directions, sprouting little leaflets along the way. Maturing rosebuds now topped each of the three stems as it stretched a little ways more and the leaflets continued to grow.

The little light green seedling completely evolved into a long green stem, decorated with leaves, and though it had stopped stretching, the rosebuds on each end continued to bloom. Their dark, leafy coverings spread open and bright red petals were uncovered. Each petal began to spread out, gradually making way for the one underneath. It blossomed in a maze of bright, red petals until the very last one was exposed to the air where its scent permeated everything it touched. The rose, beautiful and sweet smelling, matured to its full potential, the beautiful process complete, and a sense of accomplishment, of relief, immersed Buffy.

It was almost like blackout. If someone were to ask her where she was a minute ago, she would have to guess it was here, because she honestly wouldn't know for sure. All she could remember was seeing the rose blossom, and the serene feeling it gave her. It wasn't until she fazed back into reality that she realized what had happened, and she wasn't exactly jumping for joy.

It was extraordinary to watch. How wonderful it was to be in the presence of such magic. In all his years, Dumbledore could count rare experiences like this on one hand. Not only had the magic amazed him, it also answered many of his questions and it gave him peace of mind.

It was surreal. Almost incomprehensible. Not to mention, a little frightening. Buffy couldn't tear her eyes away from the flower that still floated before her eyes. Her mouth opening and closing not knowing what to say, how to react, how to express what she was feeling. Her facial expressions flitted from surprise to wonder to anxiety and everything in between. This was a whole new experience for her.

"I...I-I did that?" Buffy asked, finally breaking through her wall of bewilderment.

"Yes, you did," answered Dumbledore with delight in his voice.

It was the confirmation she didn't know she needed, and hearing Dumbledore say it broke that last thread of surrealism that caused reality to come crashing down again, and the rose to fall right along with it.

"I don't understand," said Buffy looking at the rose that now rested on her tray. "How...h-how could I have done _this_? I didn't - there no charms or spells or whats-its. This goes so far beyond not normal."

There was great trepidation in her voice and on the expression on her face. It appeared as though Buffy wasn't only afraid of what she had done, but of herself, of what she didn't she was capable of.

"Buffy, I know this must be a little disconcerting for you, but what you have done is extraordinary," he said gently. "I will admit, for someone of your age, it is unheard of to exhibit this kind of power so naturally, but it is something you should be proud of. Great focus is required to accomplish what you have done. The ability to control your magic, through what seems to have been a subconscious action, is astonishing. You did wonderfully."

It was nearly effortless. Without really trying, not only had she caused the flower to bloom, but she also duplicated it and levitated it...without a wand! If Hogwarts offered classes for 'gifted' kids, she was sure this would put her at the top of the list. But then...it wasn't exactly all her, was it? What was there to be proud of? This was just another example of the little side-effects Voldemort left behind. It wasn't her, she didn't do this, she cheated. She had no right to take credit for magic she had never learned.

"I didn't do this," she said, averting her eyes as she confessed. "I wouldn't even know how to start doing this. Voldemort…it has to have been what he-"

"No, it was not. This was all your doing, Buffy," Dumbledore interrupted firmly. "No matter where that magic came from, no matter what knowledge you tapped into, you were the one that controlled it. Guided it. That amount of focus is not something that is simply given, it is something that is inherited and, to some extent, learned by sheer discipline." Her eyes had still not met his and he knew she wasn't convinced. It was important that she understood that Voldemort may have provided her with the tools, but it was she who learned how to use them, how to wield them, that what she had just done, causing that seed to bloom effortlessly, was all her doing. "Buffy, I know fate has been cruel to you, and has bestowed upon you so much darkness that it has made you doubt yourself, but this here," he tapped the flower, "is the proof of who you truly are. We are all born into this world with no idea of what we will become. And we must live through situations in which at times we have absolutely no control over, but it is up to us to choose how we wish to come through, how we must live on with whatever scars we must bear, and you have done remarkably. It may have been dark magic that had been used to possess you, that same knowledge that still lies within your mind, but it was with that knowledge that you were able to create something beautiful simply because you chose to. It is the choices we make that define who we are. And this proves you have been, and will always be, Buffy Summers. Kind, loyal, bright, and above all, brave. That will never change."

Dumbledore was being very sweet, and Buffy appreciated it, but she had heard things like this before from her mother, Remus and most recently, Sirius. And it wasn't that she didn't believe them, she was just afraid that if she believed them too much it would turn out to not be true. It was safer to expect the worst, than to build yourself up to only be knocked down. It was a hard lesson she had come to learn, along with putting your emotions aside to do what needed to be done.

"Does Voldemort know he left all this behind?" she asked, her mind filled with possible implications.

"He may have some idea, but I don't believe he knows deep it runs."

Buffy didn't know need to know exactly how deep her knowledge went or how much it affected her power, she could feel it, the vast pool of magic that rippled in her mind. If she were to drop a mental coin down the magical well she imagined it wouldn't hit bottom until next summer. And that's what made it so volatile. She could control what she knew, but what about what she didn't? It was an unnerving question she still didn't like to face, because in a sense, it felt like Voldemort was still there, and she hated giving him a sense of control, no matter how small.

"This makes things worse, doesn't it?" she said asked, thinking about how deeply rooted her connection to Voldemort now appeared to be. "If he were to find out that he could combine my power with his, combine it with the Slayer...there's a chance he could be..."

"Invincible," he replied grimly.

It was the moment he said it that Buffy no longer felt like a victim, she felt like a threat. If Voldemort combined his powers, his knowledge with the Slayer's eternal, raw essence, there's no telling what he would be capable of. And it felt like she was walking around with a bomb. If Voldemort were to get his hands on her, he could...No! There was no way in hell she would let that happen. And even if Dumbledore hadn't said a word, she wanted to clarify it from the start, "He'd have to kill me first."

* * *

Notes: For months I stood on the platform just watching the inspiration trains go by. Watching all the other happy fanfic writers sit comfortably in their seats just writing away as the train whizzed on, and I'll admit, I hated them. Then one day I couldn't take it anymore, I jumped onto the next available train headed for Muse Island, punched the ticket agent, and snuck into the first available compartment.

And I'm not planning on getting off until all the chapters are finished, damn it!

But seriously, I hate, super hate it! When it takes me this long to update (_seriously I checked and I was like, three effing months what the eff is wrong with you!_), since I myself get frustrated when I read a fanfic I like and it doesn't get updated in like forever, and you have to go back a few chapters to remember what the eff is going on to get back into the flow. You'd think I'd know better.


	71. Chapter 71

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

Everyone was in their own room on Thursday. Buffy moved up a floor, and Sirius moved up three. Different rooms, separate spaces, should all point to _Hey! All better now, let's live like normal people!_ But Buffy and Sirius were still on orders to rest and rest and rest. Their meals were still popped in, and empty dishes still popped out. And if they thought they were bored before, boredom took on a whole new meaning, because at least while they resided in the same room, they had each other for entertainment, but now they had practically no one, aside from the occasional checkup from Drs. Lupin, Summers and Weasley. Even Joyce had refused to sleep in the same room with Sirius while he recuperated, for his well-being of course, and, well, the whole house heard just how unhappy he was about that...maybe even China.

After Dumbledore's visit yesterday, Buffy discussed with her mother, Sirius, Remus, and to some extent, Mrs. Weasley, all the shiny, new revelations that had been hiding in Buffy's mind all this time. They were bewildered, which was not exactly unexpected, but they were the best when all they cared about how she was feeling. How they made sure that she knew they would be there for her for any fears or any doubts she may have. She kept the 'Voldemort becoming invincible' part to herself for now, at least until she was able to get some questions answered from a Sunnydale-ian source. In the meantime, she had a lot of time to think, and she appreciated it, but that was yesterday; now she would be glad if a demon came in through the window just so she would have something to keep her occupied. Except for these blasted magazines that hadn't seemed so mindless before!

Okay, she got it, celebrities have drug problems and liked to bed hop, does every magazine in the world have to harp about it? If Buffy turned one more page and saw some skinny model with white powder on her nose, she was going to Apparate to the Editor's office and start kicking ass.

With all the irritation Buffy felt, one would think she'd just stop reading those magazines and pick up a book or something, but no, being the masochist that she was, she turned another glossy page that had a picture of yet another young actress stumbling out of a bar, _moron_. Thankfully however, she was going to be saved from herself, because in the next second there came a very welcomed knock on the bedroom door, and two redheads poked through.

"_Hellooo_."

"_Hellooo_."

"Hello!"

Fred and George greeted one by one, then both at once.

"Oh, thank god," Buffy muttered in relief, tossing the magazine to the floor. "Hi!" she said, with the biggest smile she could give, never having been so happy to see them before.

"Told you she liked me best," Fred said to George as they walked.

"Who said that smile's for you?"

"Couldn't be for you, you're a Weasley."

As they usually did, they each took a spot on either side of Buffy and made themselves comfortable with their hands behind their heads and legs stretched out on the bed.

"We leave you alone for two seconds and look what happens?"

"Get yourself all mixed up with those ruffians."

"That Ron Weasley was always up to no good, you know."

"It's all that red hair, can't be healthy."

"And that Potter, always been a bad influence."

"It's the scar I tell you."

"What about everyone else?" asked Buffy.

"Pfft, hanger-ons," said Fred.

"Always the sweet ones, aren't you?"

"Can't help it, it's in our nature," said George with a wink. "How are you?"

"Depends, what have you heard?" she asked.

"You mean aside from the perilous battle in the Department of Mysteries."

"Which we didn't get invited to, by the way, thank you very much."

"You mean the postman didn't get to you in time?"

"Must've taken a wrong turn at Greenland."

"So unreliable."

"And the jump you made through the Veil of Death to rescue Sirius," George continued on, unperturbed by Fred and Buffy's side-tracked conversation, "not much."

Not much, her wand.

"Is there some sort of magical phone line I don't know about? How do you guys already know all this?"

Fred and George looked at each other and gave a joint nod.

"We've got our ways," they said mysteriously.

Yeah, sure they did, 'cause they were just so James Bond.

"Your mother told you, didn't she?"

"That would be one of the ways," Fred replied.

Buffy laughed a little. God, it felt so great having them around again.

"Well, if you're still curious, I'm fine. According to Dumbledore, better than new, and bored beyond my limit," she said with a sigh.

"Really? He said that?" George asked. "The man does know everything, doesn't he?"

It wouldn't surprise any of them if Dumbledore in fact knew that Buffy was bored beyond her limit.

"You know we only know part of the story," said Fred.

"The short, need-to-know only bits."

"Care to share the rest of it with your old mates?"

"Your best pals."

"The loves of your life."

"Sure, will they be dropping by anytime soon?" she asked with an innocent face.

Fred and George placed their hands over their hearts as if they had just been hit by an arrow.

"Always the heartbreaker," said George.

"Can't help it, it's in my nature," she said with a shrug and then smiled at the mock pained expressions on their faces. "How about this? I tell you all about Buffy's adventure through Ministry Land and you tell me everything about your business venture, deal?"

Glad to tell anyone about their joke shop, Fred and George readily agreed.

"Deal."

And they gladly entertained Buffy the rest of the day, dutifully keeping all her boredom at bay.

* * *

Professor Umbridge left Hogwarts the day before the end of term. It seemed she had crept out of the hospital wing during dinnertime, evidently hoping to depart undetected, but unfortunately for her, she met Peeves on the way, who seized his last chance to do as Fred had instructed, and chased her gleefully from the premises whacking her alternately with a walking stick and a sock full of chalk. Many students ran out into the Entrance Hall to watch her running away down the path, and the Heads of Houses tried only half-heartedly to restrain them. Indeed, Professor McGonagall sank back into her chair at the staff table after a few feeble remonstrances and was clearly heard to express a regret that she could not run cheering after Umbridge herself, because Peeves had borrowed her walking stick.

Their last evening at school had arrived; most people had finished packing and were already heading down to the end-of-term feast, but Harry was not even halfway done.

"You've read it fifty times already!" said Ron, who was waiting by the door of their dormitory. "Come on, I'm starving."

"Just go ahead without me, I still have some packing to finish," said Harry without even looking up from his letter.

When the dormitory door closed behind Ron, who couldn't wait another second to fill his empty stomach, Harry made no effort to pack or tear his eyes away from the parchment in his hands.

The letter from Sirius arrived two days ago, which came as a surprise to Harry because he had never sent his letter to Sirius. After the unrecognized owl dropped the letter into his hands, and the moment Harry recognized the script, he ripped it open and was filled with tremendous relief as he absorbed every word. Sirius was indeed alive, and he and Buffy were fine, and he confirmed that over and over, in one way or another, because he knew Harry would need the confirmation.

As Ron had mentioned, Harry had read the letter about fifty times, maybe even more. He brought it out every chance he got, and until he saw Sirius for himself, he knew the letter would be in his hands until he could recite it backwards, at least in between tasks, and Harry really needed to stop putting off one particular task now that school was over.

After coming to the last word, Harry folded the letter up and placed it in his back pocket. He turned to the mess on his bed and groaned at the amount of clothing and other items he still had to pack. As long as it fit and the lid closed, did it really matter how neat it was all supposed to be? Harry didn't think so, and so he proceeded to just dump everything inside. It all fit, wrinkled shirts, mismatched socks and all, but it fit, that's what mattered. And as Harry dropped down the lid, the loud bang concealed a '_crack'_ of one of the objects inside.

With his packing accomplished, and the letter put away, Harry was made aware of how hungry he actually was, and he sprinted out of the tower, toward the feast.

He had turned a corner when he saw somebody up ahead fastening a note to a board on the wall. A second glance showed him it was Luna, and guilt overcame him.

Harry had already apologized to Ginny and Neville for asking them to betray Buffy's trust, and they had forgiven him with a warning to never to do it again, but he hadn't come across Luna since he last saw her, not until today.

"Hello," said Luna vaguely, glancing around at him as she stepped back from the notice.

He was surprised she had spoken to him first, or at all, and it sent him a little off-balance before he set himself right again.

"How come you're not at the feast?" Harry asked.

"Well, I've lost most of my possessions," said Luna serenely. "People take them and hide them, you know. But as it's the last night, I really do need them back, so I've been putting up signs."

She gestured towards the noticeboard, upon which, sure enough, she had pinned a list of all her missing books and clothes, with a plea for their return.

"How come people hide your stuff?" he asked her, frowning.

"Oh...well..." she shrugged. "I think they think I'm a bit odd, you know. Some people call me 'Loony' Lovegood, actually."

Harry looked at her and he found himself not liking the fact that they hid her things.

"That's no reason for them to take your things," he said. "D'you want help finding them?"

"Oh, no," she said, smiling at him. "They'll come back, they always do in the end. It was just that I wanted to pack tonight. Anyway...why aren't you at the feast?"

"I'm heading there now. I was just doing some final packing."

"And reading your Godfather's letter again," she said, much to Harry's surprise. "Ginny told Neville and I he had written to you. How is he? Did he mention anything about Buffy?"

"Er...yeah, yeah, he did, and he said they were both doing fine."

"That's good."

They stood there quietly, and Harry could think of no better time to apologize.

"Luna, I...I want to apologize for the other day. I shouldn't have tried to push you or Ginny or Neville about Buffy. It wasn't fair to any of you, and I'm sorry."

"I know, and I understand why you were so curious, Harry. I only wished you had been a little more understanding of us. It's nice to put yourself in someone else's shoes once in a while."

Luna believed in so many extraordinary things, and always appeared to have her head in the clouds, so it always came as quite of shock to Harry when it was revealed how wise she could be.

"A-are you sure you don't want me to help you look for your stuff?" he said.

"Oh, no," said Luna. "No, I think I'll just go down and have some pudding and wait for it all to turn up...it always does in the end."

"I hope it does," Harry said, smiling encouragingly. "Down to the feast, then?"

Luna nodded and they went on to join their friends in the Great Hall for the end of the year meal.

* * *

Buffy had had enough.

There was no damn way she was going to continue laying in that bed. If push came to shove, she'd punch it in the face. Even if Remus tried to convince her to stay in the bloody room, she wasn't going down without a fight.

"No and no, Remus! I've been in my yummy sushi pyjamas for days," she said, looking for new clothes to change into.

"You need to get your rest," Remus said patiently.

Buffy stopped moving and stared at him blankly.

"Fooor daaaaayyys," she said slowly, as though they didn't speak the same language.

Enough was enough already. Buffy and Sirius understood their caretakers were still concerned, but this, this was overkill, and the only reason they put up with it was because of the anguish they had put Remus, Joyce and Molly through when they were unconscious, but that time has come and passed, even Joyce had forgiven them already. It's time they put their foot down and said -

"Alright, it's enough!" Sirius exclaimed after he banged the door open, all dressed and ready to go. "You are going to change, and we are going outside for a walk around the block," he said to Buffy.

"Sounds good to me," she said and went in search of a top to go with her jeans.

"Sirius, you can't-"

"Oh, yes, Remus, we can and we will."

Remus will admit it, everyone had become a little too overprotective and overbearing, despite the fact that Buffy and Sirius were perfectly healthy and no longer needed to be hovered over, and it was time they stepped back and let things resume to normal, but there was one very important thing Sirius seemed to have forgotten.

"You're still supposed to be in hiding remember? Azkaban? Dementors? Any of it ringing a bell?"

"Exactly why I have these," Sirius replied and held up a beaten up baseball cap and a black football jacket. "We're only going out for some fresh air; don't be such a stick, will you?"

Remus looked behind Sirius and saw Joyce, Molly and Arthur standing there.

"Why am I the only one saying anything against this?"

"We were against it until Sirius made us feel guilty on how we've been imprisoning them in their rooms, and how it was unhealthy for them to be locked up for so long. And he also promised they wouldn't take longer than half an hour," said Joyce, arms crossed and looking unhappy, despite her agreeing to the situation.

"It wouldn't really do any harm if they just took a stroll," said Arthur. "It is dark out. I don't think they'll be seen."

"Thank you, Arthur," said Sirius,

"What about Dumbledore?" inquired Remus. "You really don't think he'd be alright with this?"

"Yes, he would," said Buffy. "He told me the other day that after what happened at the Ministry he realized he needed to be a little more lenient, that he couldn't protect us from everything, and with what's about to come, we needed to find happiness in as much as we can."

"See, wise man, that Dumbledore," Sirius said gleefully, and turned to an indecisive Remus. "Look, we're going no matter what, couldn't stop us if you wanted to try, so if you wanna keep complaining go ahead."

No, Remus couldn't stop them, but then, he didn't really want to. He had to agree with what Dumbledore had told Buffy. After all this, after everything that could've been lost, after years of missing out on life, who else deserved freedom like Sirius, even if it was for half an hour?

"Be careful," Remus advised sternly.

And after a quick wardrobe change, and many more warnings to be careful, Buffy and Sirius went for a walk around the neighbourhood, arm-in-arm.

"How does it feel?" asked Buffy.

Sirius looked all around him. He saw two kids playing up ahead while their father watched on. He saw a group of teenagers across the street, horsing around and drinking something from paper bag he knew they were still too young to be drinking. He could smell the distinct aroma of someone cooking somewhere not too far in the distance. And above all, he felt the openness of world around him. Of the endless stretch of sky and the feeling that he had the choice to do whatever he pleased just because he could.

"Wonderful. It feels wonderful," he said with a content smile, and they continued to walk as if they had all the time in the world.

* * *

The journey home on the Hogwarts Express the next day was in large part uneventful. Even when Malfoy and his cronies paused by Harry on the train. He had expected them to hurl insults or pick a fight, take out their anger about their fathers being arrested on him, but nothing happened. Malfoy only stared at him angrily. His eyes burning with murder, but he said nothing and then he and Crabbe and Goyle walked on, which Harry would never openly admit, unnerved him as much as it confused him as it was such an uncharacteristic thing for Malfoy to do.

Settling into their cabins, Harry and Ron whiled away most of the journey playing wizard chess while Ginny and Luna filled out a quiz in The Quibbler, while Neville tended to his _Mimbulus mimbletonia_, which had grown a great deal over the year and now made odd crooning noises when touched, and Hermione read out snippets from the Prophet. It was now full of articles about how to repel Dementors, attempts by the Ministry to track down Death Eaters and hysterical letters claiming that the writer had seen Lord Voldemort walking past their house that very morning...

"It hasn't really started yet," sighed Hermione gloomily, folding up the newspaper again. "But it won't be long now..."

"Hey, Harry," said Ron softly, nodding towards the glass window on to the corridor.

Harry looked around. Cho was passing, accompanied by Marietta Edgecombe, who was wearing a balaclava. His and Cho's eyes met for a moment. Cho blushed and kept walking. Harry looked back down at the chessboard just in time to see one of his pawns chased off its square by Ron's knight.

"What's - er - going on with you and her, anyway?" Ron asked quietly

"Nothing," said Harry truthfully.

"I - er - heard she's going out with someone else now," said Hermione tentatively.

Harry was surprised to find that this information did not hurt at all.

"You're well out of it, mate," said Ron forcefully. "I mean, she's quite good-looking and all that, but you want someone a bit more cheerful."

"She's probably cheerful enough with someone else," said Harry, shrugging.

"Who's she with now, anyway?" Ron asked Hermione, but it was Ginny who answered.

"Michael Corner," she said.

"Michael - but –" said Ron, craning around in hiss eat to stare at her. "But you were going out with him!"

"Not anymore," said Ginny resolutely. "He didn't like Gryffindor beating Ravenclaw at Quidditch, and got really sulky, so I ditched him and he ran off to comfort Cho instead."

She scratched her nose absently with the end of her quill, turned The Quibbler upside-down and began marking her answers. Ron looked highly delighted.

"Well, I always thought he was a bit of an idiot," he said, prodding his queen forwards towards Harry's quivering castle. "Good for you. Just choose someone - better - next time."

"Well, I've chosen Dean Thomas, would you say he's better?" asked Ginny vaguely.

"WHAT?" shouted Ron, upending the chessboard: Crookshanks went plunging after the pieces and Hedwig and Pigwidgeon twittered and hooted angrily from overhead.

As the train slowed down in the approach to King's Cross, Harry had never wanted to leave it more. Sirius had promised in his letter, and Dumbledore had confirmed that Harry would be allowed to visit Grimmauld Place before he went back to the Dursleys.

When the train finally puffed to a standstill, Harry quickly lifted down Hedwig's cage and grabbed his trunk.

"Do you know who's gonna escort you there?" asked Ron, as they stepped off the train and onto the platform.

"No, Dumbledore just said it would be someone from the Order," Harry replied.

"Hmm, it's strange, dad usually waits for me here," said Luna, who was trailing behind Harry, Ron and Hermione with Ginny and Neville, her large eyes looking over the crowd and not spotting her father.

"He's probably waiting for you on the other side of the barrier," said Ginny.

"No, he doesn't like to do that. His Heliopath charms won't work if he's around Muggles for long periods of time."

"You can come with us and we can make sure; if he's not there, you can come back," Neville suggested.

After surveying her surroundings and making sure her father was not there, Luna agreed to Neville's suggestion, and they headed for the barrier.

After the ticket inspector signaled that it was safe to walk through the magical barrier between platforms nine and ten, right behind the other, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna crossed over and what they found was a surprise awaiting them on the other side.

There was Mad-Eye Moody and Tonks, who stood just behind him along with Remus. At the front of the group stood Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Fred and George, who were both wearing brand-new jackets in some lurid green, scaly material.

"Ron, Ginny!" called Mrs. Weasley, hurrying forwards and hugging her children tightly "Oh, and Harry dear - how are you?"

"Fine," said Harry, as she pulled him into a tight embrace. Over her shoulder, he saw Ron goggling at the twins' new clothes.

"What are they supposed to be?" he asked, pointing at the jackets.

"Finest dragonskin, little bro'," said Fred, giving his zip a little tweak. "Business is booming, and we thought we'd treat ourselves."

"Hello, Harry," said Lupin, as Mrs. Weasley let go of Harry and turned to greet Hermione, Neville and Luna.

"Hi," said Harry, and lowered his voice. "Are all you of taking me to see Snuffles?"

"Not just you, Potter," said Mad-Eye, walking over to him. "Granger! Lovegood! Longbottom! You'll be coming along with us as well. We've spoken to your parents or grandparent, whatever the case may be, and they've all agreed you can make a stopover before we take you to your homes."

Well, this was definitely an unexpected turn of events.

"We're going, too? All of us?" asked Hermione, and Mad-Eye gave a curt nod.

"Going where?" Luna asked curiously.

"We're going to visit two old friends who want to thank you for what you've done, and wish to do it in person," said Remus.

It wasn't hard to figure out who those two old friends were and they had to admit, even Ron and Hermione, that they wanted to see Buffy and Sirius too, especially Neville, who was yearning to see Buffy, and Harry, who was aching to see them both.

"Alright, let's go, it's not safe for any of us to be out in the open now that You-Know-Who's been exposed," Mad-Eye said eagerly as his eye whizzed underneath the brim of his hat.

As they made their way out of the station, Remus handed Luna and Neville each a small, folded down piece of parchment and told them to read it silently, so no one else would be able to hear, and to memorize it. Curiously they opened it up, and right in the middle was written an address: _Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, London_.

When they arrived at the appropriate spot, Neville and Luna were reminded of the note Remus had given them, and as they remembered what was written, they watched as the house that hadn't been there before appeared before them, and they smiled in amazement, as did Ginny at their reactions, glad that two of her closest friends had now been let into this little secret.

The moment the house appeared, Harry sprinted forward, and rushed through the door, his eyes moving in every direction, desperately in search of...

"Sirius," he said, relieved and overjoyed at the sight of his godfather coming down the stairs.

Harry ran forward and threw his arms around him, squeezing Sirius with all his might. It was real. Sirius was alive and here, not just in a letter, but actually here in flesh and bone, and no word could express the amount of joy he was feeling.

Sirius had not expected to be so glad to see his godson. He had been waiting anxiously all day for his visit, but the moment he saw Harry, everything became so much brighter, so much warmer. It was that final click he needed to realize all that he could've really lost, had he chosen to give up, and he had never been so thankful that he didn't.

Over Sirius's shoulder, Harry saw Mrs. Summers coming down the stairs. Their eyes met and she smiled; it was welcoming and warm and right now, with all the people he loved around him, Harry had never felt more at home.

With a final pat on the back, Sirius and Harry let each other go, but Sirius kept his right arm around Harry's shoulders as he turned to look at the crowd.

"Hello and welcome. I'm glad you were all able to come," he said.

"Thank you very much for inviting us," replied Luna.

The voice was light and unfamiliar. Sirius tried hard to place the girl. He remembered seeing her at the Department of Mysteries, and by his deduction from what he knew of Buffy's friends, he assumed that it was that Lovegood girl.

"I'm sorry, I don't think we've met," said Sirius with a smile, and then looked over to Remus and the others. "Thanks for the introductions, by the way."

And Remus rolled his eyes.

"I'm Luna Lovegood."

"Sirius Black. Nice to meet you, Luna," he said, offering his hand, and Luna shook it gently.

Then Sirius turned to the boy next to her. The one with strange plant and round face that greatly reminded him of who Sirius was sure was the boy's mother.

"N-neville. Neville Longbottom."

"And an honour it is to meet you, Neville," he said, and offered a hand to him as well. "I knew Frank and Alice well. They're one of the most wonderful, bravest people I've ever known, and by what Buffy tells me, you are definitely their son."

Though his chest filled with pride, Neville blushed as he stuttered out, "Th-thank-thank y-you."

Sirius gave him a short, friendly nod, smiling at Neville's humbleness.

It took some subtle prodding from Harry to make Sirius realize that Joyce had been standing behind them, and once he did, Sirius turned back, and used his free arm to bring Joyce forward, knowing she had yet to meet the illustrious Luna and Neville.

"And let's not forget this lovely woman who happens to be Buffy's mother, Joyce. Joyce, I'd like you to meet Neville and Luna."

"Hello," they greeted her in unison.

"I'm very happy to finally meet the both of you," she said with a smile that reminded Neville and Luna of Buffy. "Buffy's told us a lot about you."

"Sh-she has?" Neville asked, astonished.

Joyce nodded.

"You mean a great deal to her," she said. "She's very lucky to have friends like you."

If it was even possible, Neville's cheeks reddened even more; even Luna's cheeks colored a bit, and before Neville shrank into himself even further at all this attention, Sirius thought it best to draw that attention somewhere else.

"Ron! Hermione. Ginny. Always glad to see you. How are you?"

"We're great. How are you?" asked Hermione, concern in her voice.

"Never better. Have you to thank for that. All of you," he said, his tone of voice became gentle and full of sincerity. "If it wasn't for you, Buffy and I wouldn't have been able to come back. Thank you."

Sirius's gratefulness nearly overwhelmed them, and Luna, Neville, Ginny, Ron and Hermione smiled.

"We didn't really do much..." said Hermione.

"No, you did, and I'm sure Buffy would like to give you her thanks as well," said Sirius, and at the mention of her name, they perked up.

"Where-where is she?" Neville asked eagerly.

"Second floor. I believe most of you know the way."

With Ginny at the lead, leaving all trunks and plants behind, the stampede headed up the stairs in resounding footsteps.

"Not even a peep," said Sirius, looking at where the curtains covering his mother's portrait stood still. "I do love it when Buffy stays here."

They were probably here by now, and where was she? In her bedroom putting on a different pair of clothes because Buffy decided to be klutzy and drop orange juice on herself. Oh, those handy Slayer skills, always there to stop fashion in its tracks. With her last boot zipped up, Buffy rushed to the door, but before she could turn the handle, a very loud thunderous sound reached her ears. It sounded like...running. Lots of running. Swiftly, Buffy pulled open the door and then she smiled at what she saw.

"Hey, you-Woah!"

Ginny flung herself first. Then Neville. Then Luna. And Buffy found herself squeezed in the middle of a friendship sandwich, a frienwich if you will. They had come at her so quickly that she had stumbled back to the middle of the room, wrapped in a cocoon of her friends.

"It's great to see you guys, too," said Buffy, somehow managing to wrap her arms around...somebody.

It really was great to see them. All of them. Not only did it comfort her friends at seeing Buffy awake and well, it also gave Buffy comfort seeing them, being around them, it lifted the spirits that had been so down in the dumps lately

The four of them stood momentarily frozen in their happy reunion, before they realized that Buffy does need her blood to flow again before she turned blue, and after one final squeeze they unlatched.

And the moment Luna, Neville and Ginny stepped back, two pairs of arms rushed right in.

Fred and George quickly grabbed onto Buffy, hugging her like they hadn't seen her in years and so hard that they lifted her off the ground; after they put her down and saw the questioning look on her face, they gave a very innocent, "What? They did it first."

And Buffy couldn't help but roll her eyes. How do you solve a problem like the Weasley twins? The world may never know.

Harry didn't think he'd be so relieved to see her. So glad to see her face and hear her voice. He wanted to run just like Neville had and grab a hold of Buffy like Fred and George. He had come close to losing her again, and it wouldn't have been for only a couple months of missing letters, it could've been forever, and the thought of it caused his stomach to clench. He hadn't realized how much the thought scared him, it hadn't really occurred to Harry that when Buffy went after Sirius, there was a great chance she wouldn't have come back, and now that belated sense of fear resonated when he saw her smile, because it was possible that only a few days ago he wouldn't have been able to see her smile ever again.

It wasn't until Fred and George moved out of Buffy's line of sight that she saw Harry walking toward her. She tried to read his face, the look in his eyes as he stared at her, but there was no tell to be told, he was unreadable. She had hoped that she had learned to read him by now, know what he was thinking just by the expression on his face or a twitch he didn't know he made. But as Buffy looked at him, she couldn't pinpoint a single emotion, but maybe...maybe it was because Harry wasn't feeling just one. As she thought about it more, Buffy began to take notice of certain things. She realized now that his hands being in his pockets might be because he felt shy about something. His jaw was smooth and relaxed but his neck was stiff, like he was fighting with himself. And Buffy smiled a little, it wasn't a lot, but it was something, and she was glad that Harry wasn't so unreadable after all.

Harry stopped short before her. Close enough that he could look straight into her eyes and see every colour they held and how brightly they shined. Close enough that if he reached out just a little he could wrap his arms around her if he wanted to.

"Thank you," he said.

"Yeah, well, he kinda grew on me, couldn't just leave them there, ya know."

"I don't just mean for Sirius."

Buffy blushed when she realized that he was thanking her for coming back. She wouldn't be surprised if her whole face was red, and because she didn't know what to say without thinking it sounded dumb, she gave a small nod in response and a shy smile to go with it.

Harry couldn't help but smile a little at her expression and once again he wanted to wrap his arms around her, he just didn't have the nerve, so he continued to clench his hands in his pockets until the urge passed. He just hoped the palms of his hands wouldn't bleed by then.

In an effort to return her temperature back to normal, and before Fred and George, the tease maestros, picked up on the intimate little moment, Buffy decided to look away from Harry for some distraction, and that was when she spotted Ron and Hermione. Both appearing a little timid, but not angry or unhappy; as a matter of fact, they seemed pleased to see her, which she had to admit, felt a little strange.

"H-how are you feeling?" Hermione asked, genuine concern in her voice.

"Really good. Thanks," she said, and they both smiled. Even Ron had a shy smile when she looked at him. It was surreal, but it felt nice, refreshing in a way, like she had come back from the Veil with a new start.

"Meet Sirius?" Buffy asked, turning her attention to Luna and Neville.

"Yes, he was lovely," replied Luna.

"A-and your mum. She was nice, too."

"Good," she said, glad that Luna and Neville got along with her mother and Sirius, and vice versa, not that there was anything not to like but there was always that if.

"I'm really glad you guys were able to come," Buffy said, addressing everyone. "I wanted to thank you for what you did. If it weren't for you, Sirius and I wouldn't be here now."

"We didn't really do much," said Ron, echoing Hermione's words from earlier. "I-it was your plan. You went in after him, we just pulled a rope."

"You brought us back," she said firmly. "There was no other way we would've been able to return without you. Really. Thank you."

Ron shrugged, his face flushing pink, and the rest of them smiled because saying 'you're welcome' didn't feel all that appropriate, especially since bringing Buffy and Sirius back wasn't done as a favour, but because they didn't want to lose them, because they wanted them back and they would've raised hell to have done it.

"How did you know it would work?" asked Harry.

"What?" she asked, taken aback.

"Obviously I'm glad it did, and that you're both alright, but how did you know?"

That was a very good question, and her answer was plain and simple...

"I-I wasn't sure, not exactly," she explained. "From what I knew, I took a guess. An all or nothing kind of a chance, and I just...went with my instincts. Thankfully, it ended with an all gain situation."

...but Harry's question lead to other questions about that day. Why was Buffy there? Was she really in the Order? And how was she able to fight the way she did? Buffy could see the questions aching in Harry, Ron and Hermione's eyes, and before they could be asked, there was a knock on the doorway.

"I need to speak to Buffy alone," said Remus.

With a slight hesitation, but following the request nonetheless, they all quietly left in a row, Ginny taking one last glance back before closing the door behind her.

"They have questions," Remus said.

"I know."

"How do you want to handle it?"

How did she want to handle it? Buffy had been thinking about it since Wednesday. She thought about how they would handle it, if they would understand, and, above all, how important it was for them to know and how much. The majority already knew about her alter ego, but they didn't all know about her connection to Voldemort. About what she had done under his influence, and how much it has affected her. She spent the past three days weighing her options. Very few people really know what happened to Buffy three years ago, and not one of them knew the whole story. It wasn't an easy thing to retell and it wasn't an easy decision to make.

"I want to tell them."

"Even Ron?"

"Even Ron," she said smiling, before she took on a more serious tone. "I don't want secrets. Not with what we're about to face."

"Are you sure?" he asked, and Buffy looked at him crossly. "Now, I'm only asking because once it's out, you can't take it back."

She had thought about it long and hard, but she knew it was the right thing to do.

"I want them to know."

Remus could still see a flicker of indecisiveness, he knew the decision wasn't easy for her, but as he had learned, when Buffy made her choices, she stuck by them. All she really needed was support, and that's what Remus would always be.

"Okay," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder encouragingly. "Let's go gather everyone and have ourselves a story time, shall we?"

* * *

Notes: Oh yeah! Still on that train, baby!


	72. Chapter 72

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

"Good to see your stay at St. Mungo's hasn't affected your abilities," said Ginny, giggling as Tonks neighed like a horse through her dark brown muzzle.

"Would you mind doing mine next?" requested Luna.

Tonks neighed one more time and returned her face back to normal. She had decided to stay back a little longer after Mad-Eye had left, and was currently entertaining the group with her rare talent.

"Hare, wasn't it?" she asked, and Luna nodded.

As quick as a wink, Tonks's mouth grew fur and whiskers, and her short rabbit nose twitched as Luna smiled, fascinated by it.

"I keep thinking one of these days her face is going to stay that way," said Sirius. He was standing by the fireplace looking at Tonks as she displayed her 'animal instincts' to Ginny, Luna, Hermione and Neville.

"Let's hope not," said Harry, who couldn't help but smile as Tonks wiggled her rabbit nose around Luna as if she were searching for food.

"It would definitely be a shame for someone if it did," Sirius said mysteriously, and before Harry could question it, Sirius changed the subject. "Dumbledore told me you had asked him about staying with me for the summer."

Sirius didn't sound too enthusiastic as he said it, and Harry could already tell what Sirius's decision would be.

"You...you don't think it's a good idea," Harry said sadly.

"As much as I would love for you stay...it's best if you kept staying at the Dursleys'. It's much safer for you there, especially now."

"But it's safe here, too, isn't it? With all the charms put on this place, you told me it was the safest house anywhere, remember?"

"Yes, I remember, but with all its protections, this house still has its vulnerabilities. It can't protect you as much as living with your aunt can," he said, trying to convince Harry with the same explanations he used to convince himself. "Dumbledore told me he explained this to you."

Harry nodded. "He did, but...I was hoping you could have changed his mind. That it would be different now."

Harry looked so disappointed that Sirius was close to saying the hell with it all and let Harry stay, but reason still managed to creep in, and he thought of what was best for his godson.

"It is different, Harry. Very, very different," said Sirius, putting a hand on his shoulder for good measure. "But there is one thing that will not, and cannot, change. You have to be kept safe. No matter what. You now understand why, don't you?"

Harry understood it; he just didn't like it, which had become a very common thing for Harry.

It was such a sad, short nod that it wouldn't be described as a nod at all to anyone else, but it was all Harry could muster and Sirius had expected as much.

"Let's look on the bright side, you'll be staying here tonight," Sirius said with a smile. "Mad-Eye said he'll be coming back for you tomorrow afternoon, didn't he?" Harry nodded. "See, it's not so bad. Sometimes we have to take what we can and appreciate it for all it's worth."

Harry had to agree that it was something opposed to nothing. One night of peace and family warmth...no, that wasn't just something, it was everything, and Harry was grateful for as much of it as he could get

Buffy had come to a decision that took days to make, but as she walked down the stairs alone and toward the mass awaiting her, she was still questioning that decision. It wasn't so much if she should, but how much? How much should she tell them? How much did they really need to know? How much was she comfortable with? They were definitely not the easiest questions to answer, and she continued to think about them even as her hand reached the doorknob.

Remus had gathered them all in the sitting room: most of the Weasleys, the newly vacationing Hogwarts students, a pink-haired Auror, a fugitive and a Summers, and the moment they heard the door open and saw Buffy enter, everyone stopped talking.

It was eerie, having them be so quiet and looking so curious; it was eerie to the point that Buffy almost lost her nerve.

She looked at them as she walked to center stage, and with each face she saw, she was reminded of how they had kept her Slayer secret for so long, how much trust had been built between them, and her nerves eased a bit, but then she spotted Harry, Ron and Hermione, the only ones who didn't know a thing. But Harry was different, even before she had returned, through every letter they had written, there was a sense of understanding between them, a bond that had been formed. She could trust him, she knew it. Ron and Hermione, now that was another story. It wasn't that they were untrustworthy; it was more of how they would react, would they understand? Buffy's relationship with them, whatever there was of it, had been a car crash from the start, with no real chance to smooth it over yet, though if earlier was any indication, it appeared as though Hermione and Ron were willing to change that for the better.

Through it all, thick and thin, Ron and Hermione had been there for Harry, and looking at them, they reminded Buffy a little of Xander and Willow, the unfailing friends of a 'Chosen One'. That small feeling of familiarity eased Buffy's nerves even more. If it was our actions that defined us, loyalty didn't come any stronger than those friends that stuck by you, even looking death in the eye. They were admirable in their friendship with Harry. Besides, they had saved her life, so there was that too.

Buffy stopped near the end of the room, facing a little over two dozen expectant eyes and a quiet so intense one could hear the clock ticking. Yeah, that wasn't nerve-wracking in the slightest.

"I know that there's questions. Obviously. After everything that you saw, how could there not be, right?" she said, facing everyone, but inconspicuously directing her questions to Harry, Ron and Hermione. "And there are some of you who already know things. Why I was at the Department of Mysteries. Why I fought the way I did..." She took a breath and looked directly at the Trio. "I'm a Vampire Slayer."

It was as if someone had shouted _Petrificus Totalus_! It seemed that everyone and everything froze. And some of them didn't freeze because of what Buffy had just said; they froze because of how three certain individuals would react.

Everyone peeked out of the corner of their eyes to Harry, Ron and Hermione, waiting to see what kind of explosion erupted, but there was no eruption, no explosion, they didn't move, didn't blink, didn't – they were still breathing, right?

Harry's eyes had widened. Hermione looked puzzled. And Ron...Ron laughed.

"No, you're not," he said in disbelief.

It was a joke. It had to be. There was no way Buffy was a –

"I am," Buffy said with such conviction that it took away Ron's laughing mood, and his jaw dropped as stared at her, completely confounded.

Harry...Harry didn't know what to think. He almost didn't believe her. Even when she reconfirmed it to Ron, somehow it still didn't feel real. It was as if someone else was saying it. It was as if Buffy wasn't just Buffy anymore.

Hermione was shocked. She had her suspicions, of course, but she never thought that Buffy would openly admit to being the Slayer in front of everyone. How could she be so brash about it? Wasn't it supposed to be a secret?

It was all mush. That's what Ron felt his brain turn into. A Vampire Slayer. A person who slayed vampires. Buffy. Girly-petite-little Buffy was a...what?

"Y...wh...ha...h-how come we're the only ones surprised?" Ron asked.

Everyone was looking at them, not at Buffy, at them, and no one seemed to be as shocked as they were. They didn't seem to be shocked at all. That wasn't right.

"Because we knew," Ginny said smugly.

"You knew?" the Trio questioned.

"All of you?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," said Neville.

"It feels kinda nice, you know."

"Having the tables turned for a change."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Ron demanded.

George leaned in and whispered, "'cause it was a secret, shhh," and then laughed when Ron shoved him away.

"Everyone knew, and you purposely kept it secret from us this whole time," Hermione grumbled.

"Is there anything else you're hiding from us?" Ron asked bitterly.

They were behaving so immaturely, and it was such a great opportunity, why waste it...

"Yes, I think it's time you knew," said Ginny seriously. "Neville and I are having a baby."

"Fred and I have decided to become Muggle dentists," said George.

"I'm really a vampire," said Sirius.

"That werewolf thing, just a cold," said Remus.

The Trio glared.

"Ha. Ha. Ha," Ron said sarcastically

They hadn't expected them to react well to the news, but they weren't going to let them act so self-righteous about it either.

"Stop being so scornful, will you?" said Fred.

"Buffy didn't have to tell you, you know," said Ginny.

"We could've very well kept this a secret forever if she asked us to," said George.

"But she chose to tell you," Neville said.

"Because she wanted to," added Luna.

Oh, sure if they were going to use common sense.

Having been knocked down a notch or two, Ron and Hermione deflated a little bit and let their hurt and angered expressions melt away, and in their places, were more subservient ones tinged with curiosity.

After all these years, after everything they had shared, after everything Harry thought he knew...why didn't she tell him? She told them, why didn't she tell him? Didn't Buffy trust him? Did she think...what did she think? What did Buffy think of him that she wouldn't tell him something so important? It hurt, far more than Buffy or Harry would've thought. It would've been different if she had revealed that she was the Vampire Slayer to everyone at once, but the fact that she told everyone else, chose not to tell him until the last minute...

"I didn't know witches could become slayers," Harry said, his voice dark as he stared at Buffy with angry eyes, even if she was trying to avoid it.

"It's not that they can't, it's that they're overlooked, but in rare instances they can be chosen," Hermione readily explained. "Muggles are chosen as slayers to protect the mortal side of the world, their world, since Muggles don't have the required skills to defend themselves against dark creatures. Witches and wizards do have the inherent abilities to protect themselves so they are often overlooked, but as you can see, it does happen on rare occasions."

"You know an awful a lot about this...you knew!" Ron accused.

"You knew?" nearly everyone else exclaimed.

Hermione flinched back

"I-I didn't know...exactly. I had my assumptions and did some research, of course," she said, but then straightened her back when she remembered she had done nothing wrong, it wasn't her fault she was highly logical. "It was pretty hard not to notice that there was something different about Buffy. You'd have to be blind not to see it."

"We didn't see it," said Ron, referring to himself and Harry, and his eyes narrowed when Hermione conspicuously looked away. "Thanks."

It all made sense. It was why Buffy and Tonks were so close, despite meeting each other only this year. It was why Buffy was in the Department of Mysteries, fighting side by side the Order. And...it was her! It was Buffy they had seen from the railing last August, hiding beneath her hood at the end of Order meetings.

"Everyone in The Order knew this, didn't they? They knew you were the Slayer all along," he said, and this time Buffy met him eye for eye as she nodded.

"Did the entire world know but us?" asked Ron.

"No, not the whole world," Buffy replied, slightly offended.

"Does anybody else know?" Harry asked.

The guilt ridden gravy train just left the tracks at the little insinuation Buffy could see stirring in his eyes.

"If you're wondering about Draco, as far as I know, he doesn't," she said sternly.

Buffy had thought about telling Draco time and time again. Telling him everything about being a slayer, about Voldemort, but she always convinced herself not to in the end. She knew keeping him in the dark was the only way she could protect him from the environment he was surrounded in. An environment of Death Eaters who would do anything to get into the good graces of Voldemort no matter who the sacrifice had to be. If Draco knew the truth about her, it would put him at risk, way more than anyone else she knew, and she would do anything to protect Draco, even if it meant lying to him.

"What about the Ministry?" Hermione asked. "The day you were expelled, Umbridge made it sound like..."

"She assumes, but she doesn't know, not for sure," said Buffy, and to clarify things, "but Fudge does."

"Fudge?"

"It's a long story, but he's been sworn to secrecy."

"And you think you can trust him?" Harry asked, his attitude still in place.

"That's another long story, but he won't say anything. It's a Ministry/Council thing," Buffy replied patiently, even if Harry's bark was practically begging her to bite.

"Council?" inquired Ron.

"The Watcher's Council," Hermione replied before Buffy could even open her mouth. "It's the Watcher's Council's job to locate and train potential Slayers in the instance that a potential may become Chosen. The Ministry and the Council have had an alliance for as long as they've known of each other's existence, but they don't interfere in each other's matters unless asked."

"Wow, you really did do your research," Buffy said, impressed, even now, at the amount of knowledge Hermione was able to store.

"Didn't you after you found out you were the Slayer?" Hermione asked curiously, not understanding how Buffy wouldn't want to know about such a large, mysterious part of her life.

"Nah, I have a Giles for that."

"A what?"

"So, the Watcher's Council told Fudge you were the Slayer?" asked Ron, trying to piece it all together, and Buffy knew she had to simplify the mess for everyone's sanity.

"Okay, I'm gonna bullet-point this. Travers told Fudge. Travers is head of the Watcher's Council. Fudge and Travers are buddy-buddy. Fudge knows, but Umbridge and the rest of the Ministry doesn't. Secret identity marred but mostly intact. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the gist."

"Except for the Death Eaters," said Harry, and the moment he did, Buffy knew where this would lead, and her stomach clenched for the next part of her revelation that not everyone knew. "You fought them. They must know something. They must've–"

"Voldemort knows," she confessed sombrely. "He's probably known longer than I have...in a way, but he knows for sure now."

That was new and shocking information.

"You-Know-Who knows?" asked Tonks.

"You never told us that," said Ginny, and it was obvious by the multitude of reactions that Buffy didn't tell a lot of people that.

"Just full of surprises, aren't you?" said Ron, and Buffy would've raised an eyebrow if it wasn't for the fact Ron wasn't the only one with that sentiment.

She wasn't looking at anyone, and though they were looking at her, Harry was positive that they didn't notice how Buffy's shoulders had slumped, how she protectively crossed her arms across her chest, how she looked down at the floor because she didn't want to see how she was being looked at; Harry noticed all of this and he wasn't angry anymore.

"You said You-Know-Who's known longer than you?" asked Hermione, always catching that all important wording. "What did you mean by that?"

It had finally come to that how much part. That dreadful little part where Buffy had to decide how much they could handle, how much she wanted them know about how much Voldemort has affected her life. Buffy couldn't help but look over to her mother, Remus and Sirius, her pillars of strength, but not even their presence helped her come to a decision. She would just have to feel her way through and decide when, where and how much as the story unfolded.

"There's...there's something else I need to tell you. Something I think you should know." With the fight that was coming, Buffy didn't want to keep secrets that had the potential to tear their side apart, and although she wouldn't divulge every intimate detail, she did want to let them in on what would answer a lot of questions. "After Harry defeated Professor Quirrell in our first year, and Voldemort left Quirrell's body, he didn't exactly go very far. I don't...I don't know if it was right after the fight and he just lay dormant or if Voldemort hovered around for the right time. I don't know the exact details, I don't think anybody really does, except for Voldemort himself, but...when I returned to Hogwarts for my second year, I felt...different. I don't think I can even describe it. But I'm sure you guys can guess what it was." Her heart beat a little faster and even she held her breath at what she would be saying next. "Ginny wasn't the only one possessed three years ago...I was too. And it wasn't by Tom Riddle's diary, it was...I was possessed by Voldemort himself." There it was. It was out in the open. They may have had their assumptions but it was all because of a diary, now they knew that it went much darker than that and Buffy gauged their reactions. As expected there was some shock and some confusion, but for Buffy there was some relief. The hardest part was saying it out loud; the next part was helping them understand. "Nobody really knows about it, just...just a few people. My mom...my dad...Remus, Sirius, Mrs. Weasley, Dumbledore...and Snape for tricky reasons. And if anybody else knows, it wasn't because I told them. The Death Eaters knew, not all of them, but word must've spread. And before you even ask, I don't know if Draco knows, I never told him and I don't know if his father ever did. Nobody...nobody knows what happened to me while I was under Voldemort's control. At least nobody I trust. Nobody I knew. I couldn't even tell them because I had blocked it all out." She looked at Harry and Ginny wanting them above anyone else to understand what she was going to say next. "That's why when I was brought up from the Chamber of Secrets, I couldn't remember anything. Not why I was there, not what I had done, nothing. It wasn't until this year that it all started coming back. It was flashes at first and then dreams and then one night...I kinda just relived it all over again and I...I remembered. He...I-I...I did things I had no control over. Things I couldn't even imagine myself doing..." It was inevitable. Talking about it caused the memories to come back. She remembered the blood and the screams. The joy that had filled Voldemort. The guilt and disgust she had been left with. But they didn't have to know about it. They didn't have to know how her hands would forever be tainted red. If she spared her mother, she could definitely spare them. "He, uh...he used Ginny's possession as a distraction. While most of the castle was trying to figure out who the heir of Slytherin was, who was causing all the trouble, nobody even looked in my direction. No more than usual anyway. Dumbledore didn't have the slightest idea of what was going on. No one did. And it wasn't like I was acting any different. Not while I was in control of myself. I never knew what was actually happening to me. Like I said, I felt different, but not enough to question it. I felt tired a lot and my concentration was nearly non-existent during lessons. I was falling behind in my grades, and if it wasn't for Theodore helping me study, I would've flunked every class completely. I really had no clue of what was happening. I went to bed every night and woke up in my bed every morning. I never found myself in strange places with strange people doing strange things. Nothing seemed out of place. Everything around me seemed perfectly normal. I didn't know...I didn't know that for nearly a year I was Lord Voldemort."

Everyone was silent. Buffy couldn't even look at them. She didn't want to see what anyone's end reaction would be. Whether it be suspicion, surprise, pity, none of it mattered. She only wanted them to know the truth. How they chose to deal with it was out of her hands, and she was not going to apologize or make excuses for something she had no control over. Not since it had taken her this long to come to terms with what happened, and she wasn't about to let anything shake her.

It wasn't an easy thing to digest. Especially not for those who loved Buffy, who cared for her beyond measure. What had happened to Buffy was horrible. Having to go through all that. Neville couldn't even imagine what it would've been like or what it must be like to still have those memories. To know someone had invaded your head and tried to twist who you were. Buffy didn't deserve what happened to her. It wasn't right, and it angered him. But Buffy didn't need his anger, she needed his understanding. She was his friend, his best friend, and Neville would stand by her through anything. And when he looked to Luna, who had been standing quietly beside him, their eyes met and he knew she felt the same. Buffy needed their trust, their friendship, their understanding and that's what they would give her. No judgment. No prodding. Just like when she revealed her Slayer abilities, Buffy just needed them to be there, and that's where they would be.

It wasn't an easy thing to understand, not unless you went through it yourself, and Ginny knew all about it. She knew how difficult it was to remember being possessed, of being violated, of having lost control of your own body. It was not something that was easy to talk about, and she admired Buffy for it. But as much as Ginny could understand, she couldn't know, because Ginny was possessed by Tom Riddle and Buffy was possessed by Voldemort, and she knew those were different things. But she could understand, better than anyone, and if Buffy ever needed someone to talk to about what happened, Ginny would be there in a second. Ginny could wait; it was one of her greatest strengths after all.

It was an unnerving feeling. To have someone enter your mind and place images that didn't belong. To manipulate you to their liking. Harry knew what it was like, it was a disgusting feeling and he hated the idea of Buffy going through that. But what happened to Buffy was different. Voldemort hadn't just entered her mind, he had possessed her – used her. Had most likely made her do things Harry didn't even want to begin to imagine. She had looked so vulnerable as she revealed everything to them, and more than once Harry had wanted to tell her to stop. She didn't have to tell them if it was too hard, but his curiosity was too strong to voice his objection. Then he suddenly felt angry, and it was at himself. Why hadn't he seen it? He saw her every day. When they were down in the Chamber of Secrets, she had acted different, but he never thought... He should've paid more attention. Maybe he would've seen it not only in Buffy but in Ginny as well. How was he going to save the Wizarding World from Voldemort when he couldn't even save his friends from him?

It wasn't pity. It wasn't suspicion. But it was something. Having gotten to know her from a distance, having, in some part, admired her strength and perseverance, having heard her side of the story, seeing how hard it was for her to tell it, Ron felt for her. He looked at Ginny and remembered how she had been traumatized by Tom Riddle's possession. How guilty and afraid she felt before she thankfully returned to normal. He imagined Buffy had felt the same. Guilty, afraid, and other emotions he may never understand. Ron had hated her for as long as he'd known her, and he hadn't trusted her based on that very fact. But Buffy hadn't been what she seemed; she had proven, even without meaning to, that who she was, was someone Ron didn't even know. And for this Buffy, the one that stood before him, he felt for her, for everything she had gone through, and he found himself hoping that after everything, she would genuinely be okay.

It was customary to make jokes when the mood was so gloomy, but Fred and George didn't feel up to it. At least not now. They'd make Buffy laugh soon and forget and act like being possessed was an everyday occurrence. It didn't matter what happened, the point was that she was here and free of snake-faced wizards. That was what mattered. Fred and George could feel angry, worried, and they did, but their primary concern was to make Buffy smile, that's what they were best at, and that's what they would do; Buffy did have a lovely smile after all.

It was much easier, kinder, to sometimes leave things as they were. If someone revealed something immensely personal, the compassionate thing to do would be to let them set the limits of that information. But Hermione's mind didn't always go to compassion, it went analytical, and after Buffy told her story, the bushy-haired brunette was racked with questions.

"There's something I still don't understand," Hermione said quietly breaking the silence. "If Tom Riddle used Ginny to open the Chamber of Secrets, why did V-Voldemort possess you?" Buffy immediately went stiff at the question. "You said you remembered everything, didn't you? Then you must– "

"I don't wanna talk about it," Buffy said firmly.

"But why would– "

"She said she didn't want to talk about it, Hermione," Ginny interrupted tersely, and even though she still wanted to persist, Hermione stopped her questions. It may take her a little longer to realize when she was making someone uncomfortable, but she eventually got there.

"When did it change?" Ron asked, garnering the room's curiosity. "It's obvious You-Know-Who isn't possessing you anymore, when did that change?"

"In the Chamber of Secrets," Buffy replied. "When Ginny went into the Chamber, I was already there, waiting. I was supposed to be make sure that everything went according to plan. That I was there to help Tom. That I–"

"Voldemort," said Harry, abruptly. "It wasn't you. It was Voldemort."

Buffy couldn't help but smile slightly, and feel a little bit warmer at Harry's insistence.

"That Voldemort was present when Tom Riddle's memory became solid again. But things didn't obviously work out that way. Like I said, I had never been able to wake-up not while he was in control, but...that day...something pushed him aside enough to give me some room, because something that proved to be more powerful was trying to gain control. I was able get some air, because I was stronger. Because– "

"Because you became Chosen. That was the day you became the Slayer."

She was a quick one, that Hermione, and Buffy nodded in agreement.

"I was able to push Voldemort aside because the Slayer had come to take up shop. Which should've been a good thing, but the thing is when you have two powerful beings trying to take control of you...let's just say a migraine sounds like a day in paradise compared to that." Just the memory of it caused mild pain in her head. "With all that madness, I'm surprised I made it out alive."

"And saved Ginny," said Mrs. Weasley, looking at her daughter lovingly.

"And saved Ginny," Buffy said with a smile at her own gratefulness for that. "That was the day Voldemort was finally pushed out. The Slayer had won."

The history of the Slayer was nothing but a fleeting mention in the school textbooks and in the Wizarding World. There was some information available, but it had to be pieced together as Hermione had found out. Slayers were usually Muggles, that's why they were so overlooked. Why their history and existence were for the most part ignored. Voldemort had to have overlooked them as well, knowing his hatred of all things Muggle. He didn't know what Slayers exactly, but he must have...

"You-Know-Who had to have chosen you because he sensed you were a potential slayer," Hermione said as if she were answering a question no one was even thinking of asking. "He had to have sensed the power you were capable of. That must've been why he chose you. But he didn't know then, did he? He didn't know where that power came from? What it was?"

Buffy thought back and she remembered Voldmeort's prodding of her power. Stirring as he tried to figure out what exactly made her so special.

"No, he didn't."

"It wasn't until after he was pushed out that You-Know-Who had to have realized what had happened. What he had faced. He must've realized that you had become the new Slayer. He knows what you're capable of now. He knows what..." As she said the words, Hermione's rapid mind had come to a gut wrenching conclusion. "He's still after you, isn't he? After the Slayer?"

Hermione was so quick. She would make a great Watcher if she wanted to.

"After the Slayer? You're making it sound like the Slayer is a different person or something," said Ron.

"Not a different person, but a different entity." By their confused looks, it was obvious that things needed more explaining, and Hermione recited what Buffy had heard so many times before. "'Into every generation, a Slayer is born: one girl in all the world, a chosen one...when one slayer dies, the next one is called.' Don't you see?" At their blank stares, Hermione knew they hadn't. "The origins of the Slayer are ancient, the Slayer's power gets passed on after the last slayer dies. Which makes it–"

"Immortal," Buffy finished off, having come to Hermione's conclusion a while back. "Whatever the Slayer, the power, is, it carries on right after the last Slayer dies. It surpasses the death of the last Slayer. It surpasses death, period. It's eternal. That's what Voldemort's after. He believes that if he can somehow obtain the Slayer's essence, he can become immortal."

At least that's the conclusion those in the previous know had come up with. The one that made the most sense.

"And there's nothing that Voldemort fears more than death," said Harry, remembering his conversation with Dumbledore.

Voldemort wanted the Slayer part of Buffy. It was an unnerving thought, a hated thought, but someone had to ask, because it was one of the most important questions left to be asked. They needed to know how much danger she was in.

"How exactly does he plan on taking it out of you?" asked Neville, uneasy of the answer.

Buffy didn't bother hiding the worried look on her face as she replied to him.

"I don't know, but I don't think it's the kind of thing you can tickle out."

"But it's not possible, is it?" Hermione asked. "He can't–"

"You-Know-Who specializes in the impossible. It's best for all of you to never forget that," Tonks said. "It's what Mad-Eye would say. Just thought it'd be a nice reminder."

It went quiet after that. Everyone paused to mull over it all. And it was a lot. They were positive that it all hadn't completely sunk in yet and that it might not for at least a while.

It was late, a little past midnight late, and they were all tired. The last day of school. The train ride over. Buffy's revelations. She was pretty they were on overload, and Joyce was ready to put an end to it.

"I think that's enough for today. It's very late. I think it's time we head up to bed," Joyce said, and it was one of those things you didn't notice until someone pointed it out, because the second she said it, everyone seemed to have slumped over a little more.

"You're absolutely right," Molly said. "Come on, everyone, up to bed."

Joyce walked over to Buffy as the room began to clear out, and cupped her daughter's face in her hands.

"You did really well. I'm very proud of you."

"Thanks," Buffy said, a tired smile on her lips. "Do you think they'll be okay with all this?"

"They seemed very okay with it. No one ran out of the room or called you liar, did they?"

"True."

"I know it was hard for you tell them, but I think you chose the right people," she said, and smiled. "You have great instincts, Buffy. And you'll always be right in trusting them."

"So, does this mean you won't question me the next time I come home with ten pairs of new shoes?"

"Not a peep," she said, giving her daughter a kiss on the head. "Because I know your instincts will tell you that those ten pairs of shoes will be your pocket money for the next two months and you won't ask me for a knut extra."

Buffy smiled and placed an arm around her mother's waist just as her mother put her arm around her shoulders. They left the room after everyone else, and up to the beds that were calling their name.

"It's like we were staying at Hogwarts again. You know, sharing a room," said Neville as he placed down his trunk in the room he'd be sharing with Ron and Harry.

"Neville, that thing won't be making any noise in the middle of the night, will it?" asked Ron, pointing at the cactus looking plant next to Neville's foot and not remembering if it made noise back at Hogwarts. "I don't want it in here if it's gonna be screaming at the top of its...does it even have lungs?"

There was a knock on the opened doorway, and when Harry, Ron and Neville found Sirius standing there, Ron knew it was his and Neville's cue to leave.

"Come on, let's, er, let's go see what Fred and George are up to," he said, leading Neville out of the room.

"It doesn't have lungs necessarily," said Neville.

"What?"

"The Mimbulus Mimbletonia."

"As long as it doesn't wake me up, I don't care if it has a five pairs of lungs and can whistle in tune."

Sirius closed the door behind them and took a seat right next to Harry on the bed. He sighed and clasped his hands together.

"The past few days have been quite informative for you, haven't they? Being told of the prophecy about you and Voldemort. Buffy's secrets. I'd imagine your head's about to explode any second."

"I think my brain's too numb to explode," said Harry with a weak smile.

"I would imagine," said Sirius, with a smile of his own. "You know if you have ever want to talk about any of it, I'm here."

There were a lot of things Harry wanted to talk about, but there was only thing, or one person, on his mind.

"How long have you known Buffy was the Slayer?"

His tone was so accusatory that it made Sirius second-guess answering, not wanting to distress Harry anymore.

"Since last summer," he replied quietly, and Harry looked disappointed. His face had tilted down and he stared at his shoes. Sirius knew that Harry wouldn't have been happy with any answer, because people knowing about Buffy's secret wasn't the problem. "She's still the same Buffy you know. Nothing's changed about her."

"Except for the fact that she hunts and kills vampires." As he said it, Harry tried to picture Buffy actually fighting a vampire and he couldn't help a small laugh, especially once he remembered something about her when they were kids. "You know she couldn't even stand spiders or anything with too many legs, there was this one time when she..." The humour died away quickly when Harry suddenly remembered the ripped jacket he had seen her wearing back in December when she had returned from a late night 'walk'. Hermione was right, there were signs, but Buffy should've said something. "Why didn't she ever tell me? I thought that..."

"You thought what?"

He thought they were...after everything they shared...of all the things they already knew about each other...

"Nothing," Harry said, deflated.

"We all have our secrets, Harry, and sometimes we keep those secrets to protect the people we love."

"Like being kept from the fact that your life had been predestined to fight the most feared wizard of all time because you're the only one who could defeat him?" he said. He was really getting sick of secrets.

"Yeah, pretty much like that," said Sirius trying to bring a little humour, but Harry's expression didn't change, he was in no mood for humour.

"I don't think I can handle all this, Sirius. How am I supposed to defeat Voldemort? Where do I even start?"

"No one expects you to stop him tomorrow," he said calmly. "We know that this unfair, Harry. We hate it so much that we tried to protect you from it in the hopes of finding another way to vanquish him."

"But you can't. No one can. No one else but me."

"But you're not alone," Sirius assured him. "I'll always be there when you need me. Even just to ramble on to someone. All you need to do is look in that mirror I gave you."

"Mirror? What mirror?"

"The mirror," Sirius insisted, and at Harry's still confused look it all made sense. "No wonder I hadn't heard from you. Didn't you ever open up that package I gave you for Christmas?"

Christmas? Oh right, the present Sirius had given him before he returned back to school.

Harry got off the mattress and bent down to retrieve his trunk from underneath the bed. He haphazardly took things out until he found the brown paper package and he grimaced when he picked it up and it made tinkling sounds. He sat back on the bed and carefully unwrapped the package.

"Nice to see you took good care of it," said Sirius, taking the package into his hands and picking at the broken pieces. "It's two-way mirror or at least it was; I've got the other one. If you ever needed to speak to me, you say my name into it. You'll appear in my mirror and I'll appear in yours. James and I used to use them when we were in separate detentions."

"Really? Cool."

Harry picked up a large piece and admired it. Happy to know he had to something of his father's.

"It was, but it's pretty useless now, isn't it?"

"No, no, it's not. It'll still work. We just won't be able to really see each other in it. Except for an eye...or a nose..." Who was he kidding? It was practically worthless, except for sentimental value. "Sorry."

"It's alright, Harry. Don't worry about it. Doesn't matter." He placed all the pieces back onto the paper and wrapped the packaged up again. "We can always have Kreacher glue it back together or something."

Sirius handed Harry the package and Harry dropped it back into the bottom of his trunk. It's not like he'd ever really need it again.

In the room next door, Buffy sat on her bed and quietly studied the ring in her hand. The one with the heart, the hands and the crown. The one that not only represented an ex-love but of the world she had left behind. It was amazing how her two worlds were so different yet so alike and how she had people she loved more than anything in both. And how lucky she was to have those people accept so much of her, no matter how bad or dark it was. Grateful was just not a big enough word.

"I'm sorry if this is an inconvenience for you," said Luna, bringing Buffy out of her thoughts.

"Luna, you are never an inconvenience."

"I'm sure you would've liked to been alone after everything. Have some peace and quiet," she said, laying out her pyjamas on the bed.

"It's nice having some quiet time, but it feels nice not being alone right now," she said, placing the ring on the middle finger on her right hand for safekeeping.

"That's good to hear. Now I know you won't mind my coming in," said Ginny from the doorway. She plopped herself down on her back, stretching out across Buffy's bed, nearly crashing into Buffy's legs before she pulled them away.

"A paradigm of meekness, aren't you?" Buffy said, gently kicking Ginny's side.

"Always."

They heard a tiny knock and found a timid Hermione on the doorway.

"Mind if I come in?"

"Depends. No questions?" Ginny asked, propped up on her elbows.

"No questions," she said, and Ginny nodded her approval.

"Oh, good. That means we can come in, too," said George, poking his head out from the behind the doorway.

"Sure, make yourselves at home in our tiny room," said Buffy.

Behind Hermione, George, Fred, Ron and Neville walked in and scattered themselves about.

"I'm surprised you two wanted to stay, what with your own less crowded living space to pop to," Buffy said to Fred and George.

"It's been awhile since we've all been crammed in a house together."

"How strange it was to find out we missed the noise."

Buffy smiled when Neville took a seat next to her and rested his legs on top of Ginny's.

"You're just lucky I'm too tired to care," she said, and Neville just shrugged.

"Did Mad-Eye say what time he was picking you guys up tomorrow?" Buffy asked, addressing Hermione, Neville and Luna.

"He didn't give us a specific time. Only that it was in the afternoon," Hermione replied.

"I'm actually surprised he didn't take us tonight. Considering how paranoid he is," said Ron.

"Unless he knew you were going to confess your most intimate and private details to us?" George said to Buffy.

"He didn't know anymore than you did."

"I think he let us stay because of Harry," Luna said.

"You mean because of what happened at the Department of Mysteries?" asked Neville.

Luna nodded. "Being around one's friends and family gives peace. Mr. Moody must've sensed Harry's need of it."

It made absolutely perfect sense, and they were grateful at Mad-Eye's intuitiveness, knowing how much Harry was in need of some peace. Especially since he had to go back to the Dursleys' tomorrow.

Another surprise guest standing in the doorway caught Buffy's eye. Harry was standing there looking at everyone in mild surprise, and she smiled a little. Who would've thought that Buffy Anne Summers, Slytherin Queen, sorry, EX-Slytherin Queen, would be having such a pleasant, enjoyable conversation with the cream of the Gryffindor crop.

"Hey," she said, when he had yet to speak.

Everyone turned to see their topic of conversation lurking by the door, and Harry scratched the back of his neck nervously. He really hadn't expected so many people to be sitting in Buffy's room.

"Can I talk to you alone for a second?" he asked Buffy.

She looked around to everyone, not really sure why, it's not like anyone was about to object.

"Uh, yeah, sure."

Everyone got up from their spots and started to move out.

"But we just got here," complained Fred.

"Don't worry. We can show Luna and Neville what's in the master bedroom," suggested George, garnering an evil grin from his twin brother.

"Why do I get the feeling we should be running away from them?" Neville said to Luna.

With the last one out, Harry closed the door behind him. Buffy was now sitting on the edge of her bed and Harry settled beside her. He placed a fist in the air before her and dropped a silver necklace with a silver cross, letting it dangle from his fingers.

"I believe this belongs to you?"

Buffy's jaw hit the floor. She had almost given up hope finding it. Afraid that it would disappear before her eyes, Buffy slowly grabbed the necklace and placed the cross in the palm of her hand.

"I've been looking for this for like ever. Where did you find it?"

"I found it last summer, while I was staying here. It was underneath the pillow I was sleeping on. Which makes me wonder how it got there?"

Buffy quirked a smile.

"When I was staying here, way before the rest of you got here, I had a tendency to nap in any available bed I could find, you know, since any bed was for the taking. I must've been looking at this right before I conked out and must've left it there."

She unclasped the ends of the necklace and placed them around her neck.

"I can help you with that. I-if you want?" Harry said, noticing she was having trouble clasping the ends back together.

"Okay, thanks."

With her hands still on the ends, Buffy turned her back to him, and when she felt Harry grab the ends of the necklace she moved her hair aside.

It was easy. Just put the little loop into the bigger hoop and release the latch and that's all. It was easy. So why were his hands shaking?

They've put necklaces on her before. Lots of times. So why was she feeling so jittery now? This should be a non-jittery moment. Completely non...did Harry smell this good before?

"All done," he said, and let go of the necklace as if it were on fire.

Buffy turned forward and smiled a thank you. Neither noticing that they had given themselves a little extra space between them.

"I-I was trying to figure out who it belonged to all year. I even had dreams about it."

Well, there went the jitters and the smelling of things.

"Dreams?" she asked.

"Yeah, really weird ones about vampires and...demons..." Realization practical knocked him unconscious. "Though they don't seem so strange now."

"Yeah, that's way more than coincidental," she said absentmindedly as she thought about how serious this could be. "What did you see? You know in your dreams."

Harry paused as he recollected bits and pieces of what he could remember.

"I saw a boy with dark hair, and a girl with red hair, and an older man with glasses a lot. Especially in what I think was a library. And there was another man, younger, really pale looking. And then there was this one of a girl who was dead...and you..." He almost didn't wanna say it. Not with Buffy's bright green eyes looking at him like they were. "I...I think I dreamt you saying you didn't want to die." She looked down and away from him, and Harry felt his stomach drop. "These weren't just dreams, were they?"

Buffy didn't say no, or shake her head, or gave any physical indication, but Harry knew that they weren't just by the fact that she still refused to meet his eyes.

"Did you see anything else?" she asked.

Harry did. He saw so many awful things, but he didn't want to upset her anymore. What he had said was enough.

"No," he replied, and he knew he made the right decision when he saw her relax. "Why didn't you ever tell me you were the Slayer?"

_Why didn't you trust me?_ That's what he was really asking, and Buffy had the answer long before he even knew she was a slayer.

"It's kind of a funny thing, you know. You tell your friends that you fight demons and that you try to stop the world from ending and instead of running the other way or ignoring your existence like they should, they actually want to help, and that's the last thing you want." She finally looked up and into his eyes, hoping he would understand. "Letting people know I'm the Slayer goes so far beyond being told by the Council that it's not allowed. Letting people know I'm the Slayer gets them hurt...it gets them killed."

It was a good answer, but it wasn't enough. Not with everything that had been revealed today.

"You told everyone else," he said in a challenging tone.

"Actually, they all sort of stumbled on to it. I was never really great at the whole secret identity thing," she with a wry smile. "But I did let Dumbledore tell the Order. I knew it was the only way I'd be allowed to join and I'll do whatever I have to to end Voldemort."

Now it was Harry's turn to avoid her eyes. How much more of a soul-baring night could this be?

"Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives," he said and looked at her again. "That's what the prophecy said. No one can stop him. No one but me. Only one can kill the other."

Buffy knew that before Harry did. Dumbledore had told her, knowing how many prophecies she had come across in her short yet very experienced life. He had hoped she would be able to give a new perspective to it, but the prophecy was sealed tight, it was very plain, and there was nothing they could do. Even now she was still entertaining the idea of telling Giles, hoping he would find something where they couldn't.

"Harry, as one prophecy plagued person to another, I'm going to tell you what no one else will about what you're going to face." There wasn't much she could do, but she could at least let him know what he was headed for. Pass on a little of her knowledge to another, although different scenario-d, chosen one. "You're going to hate it. A lot. Even more than now. It's gonna be hard. It's gonna be painful. And one day you're going to come to a point where you just wanna give up. You're gonna think that everything you're doing is pointless and that you're not strong enough. You're going to think you can't win." His shoulders slumped at her _encouraging_ words and she leaned a little closer. "But you're going to be wrong. You will beat him, Harry. You're going to win."

The slumped shoulders were gone, but it still didn't erase his lack of confidence.

"You sound so sure."

"That's because I know you," she said matter of factly.

If only he had that kind of assurance in himself. But at least he had someone who knew what it was like. Sure, everyone can say they'll help and stand by his side, but not many understood like Buffy did. And he knew he was going to need her for everything that was coming his way.

"You've faced things like this before, haven't you?" he asked. Buffy nodded slowly, flashes of all the things she's faced coming to mind. "How did you handle it? Being forced to...to come up against things like this?"

"The same way you've been doing it all along. Our reasons for fighting are a lot stronger than our excuses to give up."

For family and friends. They were everything. They were what Voldemort didn't understand. Harry would do anything for them. For the love and acceptance they had so easily given when he needed it the most. They were his hope. And he was not going to let Voldemort take that kind of love and hope away from anyone if he could help it.

They sat quietly, and Harry couldn't help but look at her. Had she only returned this year? It felt like he had seen her every day since they met. How strange it was how much he thought he hated her when they were just children and now he wouldn't give her up for anything the world.

"With everything that's happened...it's almost like you were meant to come back this year," he said, his eyes never leaving her face.

She gave a small laugh. "Seems that way, doesn't it?"

Buffy looked at him. Harry Potter. Only fifteen and forced to save the world. She was proud of him. Of his bravery and loyalty to his family and friends. She could still see him as being that kid on the train with broken glasses barely discovering the Wizarding World he always belonged to. He was such a little git then. Now...now Buffy was glad they had kept in touch more than ever. Now when their side needed all the friendship and loyalty they could find.

"I'm really glad you came back. No matter the reason."

"Me, too."

* * *

It was late in the afternoon when the children slowly made their way into the kitchen. Still a little bleary-eyed and sluggish.

"Afternoon," said Sirius.

"No kidding," Ginny said, slumping over the kitchen table, annoyed at the fact that oversleeping makes one so tired. "I can't believe we slept so late."

"And probably starving by now, no doubt," said Joyce, placing utensils on the table.

"Well, now that you mention it..."

The adults had been awake since eight o'clock that morning. Enjoying the silence while they ate their breakfast and read their papers before the rest of the house exploded in energy and noise.

"Where's Buffy?" Neville asked.

Fred looked around and noticed that she was in fact missing from the group. "Don't tell us she's still sleeping?"

"She wasn't in her bed when I woke up. I haven't seen her since last night actually," Luna replied.

"Is she in the house somewhere?" asked Hermione.

They looked at each other: Mrs. Summers, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. It was a secretive look, a 'what should we tell them?' look, a very not good look.

"It's never good when they do that," George said.

"She is still here, isn't she?" Ginny asked.

"Uh..." was all Sirius managed to say, looking for answers from his accomplices, but no one jumped to the rescue, causing worry from the new arrivals to be on high alert.

"Where exactly is Buffy?" Harry demanded.

* * *

Note: I want to thank everyone for the reviews of the last chapter. I had gotten some really wonderful ones and I just wanted to say thanks :)

JUST ONE MORE CHAPTER TO GO! IT'S ALMOST COOKIE DOUGH...


	73. Chapter 73

**UnExpected**

By Amerie

"So, is it crazy?" asked Buffy.

"Well, _crazy_ is such a _strong_ word," replied Willow.

"Let's not rule it out, though," Giles said, chewing on the ends of his glasses.

"You don't think it can be done?" asked Faith.

"I didn't say that. I might - but not yet."

"I personally don't think it's impossible to come up with a crazier plan," Cordelia chimed in.

"We attack the Mayor with humus," said Oz, garnering everyone's confused attention.

"I stand corrected."

"Just trying to keep things in perspective."

"Thank you," Cordelia sarcastically replied. "My point, however, is crazy or not, it's pretty much the only plan. Besides, it's Buffy and Faith's, and they're slay gals, you know, Little Miss Likes-to-fight. So. . ."

"I think there was a 'yea' vote buried in there somewhere," Xander interrupted.

"Well, we're going to need every single one of you on board," Buffy said. "Especially you, Xander. You're sort of the key figure here."

"Key? Me?" he asked, surprised. "Okay, pride, humility, and here is the mind-numbing fear. What do I have to do?"

"You remember any of that military stuff from when you became soldier guy?" Faith asked him.

"Uh, rocket launcher?" he asked Buffy.

"Rocket launcher not going to get it done. It took a volcano to kill one of these things last time," said Buffy.

Their plan, though crazy as it was, could work; however, there seemed to be one important factor they seemed to have overlooked.

"Um, all of this is rather depends on you being able to control the Mayor," Giles pointed out.

Buffy glanced at Faith, who had lowered her eyes at the sore subject.

"Faith told me we should play on his human weakness," Buffy said, empathy in her tone.

"His weakness," Giles said, and Faith shrugged in what could be interpreted as a yes. "Which is. . .?"

They weren't alone. Angel could sense it. He moved forward in the shadows of the sunlit library. His shoulders tensing, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the library doors, and his actions didn't go unnoticed.

"Angel?" Buffy asked.

"Someone's here," he said cryptically.

Buffy and Faith focused their hearing, and soon they were able to pick up on sounds in the hallway. They looked at each other and rose from their seats, weapons in hand, and they faced the library entrance. Everyone else picked up whatever weapon they could find, not wanting another run-in with the Mayor like last time, and waited.

"There is an eight hour time difference."

"What are all these little metal doors all over the place?"

"What are they supposed to be?"

"They're called lockers. It's where students keep the books they don't need between classes."

The voices were louder, clear enough for all mortal hearing, and Buffy smiled when she recognized them.

"Fancy Muggles, they won't even carry their own books around."

The doors swung open and in flooded a rather large group of people.

"Here you are," said a tall red-headed teenage boy to Buffy. "Do you know how long it took us to pop over here?"

"That's five seconds of our very precious time you know," said the boy's twin.

"What are you guys doing here?" Buffy asked, not that she wasn't glad to see them, but it wasn't exactly the best time for a Sunnydale visit.

"You didn't think we'd let you have all the fun did you?" said a girl with red hair.

The Scoobies lowered their weapons at the friendly vibes the group was giving off, especially when seeing Buffy's mom with them, and they were 99.9% sure (can never be too cautious in good old Sunnydale) that the new group was Buffy's extended Wizarding familia she had so raved about.

"Hey, Wills," Faith whispered to Willow, as she looked at the abundant amount of red heads. "Lose a family?"

Willow rolled her eyes, but it was very curious to see so many redheads in one place at one time.

"They wanted to help," said Sirius to Buffy, his voice taking a lowered, more private tone. "And after an hour of arguing. . ."

"You told them?" she asked, not happy.

"Did you really think we wouldn't notice you missing?" Ginny asked.

"You helped save us. Now, we're here to help you," said Harry.

It was sweet, but they couldn't have expected her to just let them jump in half-blind.

"Guys, this is really great of you, but. . .what we're dealing with here is some heavy danger."

"And the Department of Mysteries wasn't dangerous?"

"Different type of danger. Like, completely different."

"We can face anything," said George.

"After all, we're wizards," Fred said cheekily.

Why couldn't Buffy have found herself some ditzy, uncaring friends? Life would be easier so much easier if she hung out with people who didn't care if she died.

"Buffy," Giles said, and by his look, Buffy knew her manners hadn't been up to par. She had been so wrapped up with her surprise visitors that she had forgotten there were other people in the room.

"Oh, right, introductions would be useful here." Only problem was that there a lot of introductions to be made. "Um. . .uh. . ." She stared back and forth between the two groups trying to decide where to start. "Okay, new arrivals first, I guess?" And as she called out there names, they each gave a small little wave or a nod. "For those who might not remember, this is my mom, Joyce. And this is Sirius, and Remus, Tonks, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, Neville, Luna, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, and Harry." Okay, one down. Buffy turned to the other side and was glad that the list was shorter. "This is Giles, uh, Rupert Giles, and this is Xander, Oz, Willow, Faith, Cordelia, and Angel." And that group also did their little waves or nods at the roll call. "Wizards meet supernatural. Supernatural meet wizards."

Buffy's worlds were meshing. It was definitely cause for nerves. And apparent loss of speech as a long stretch of awkward silence seemed to have taken over.

"So, what are they doing here?" Cordelia bluntly asked in her very Queen C tone, making everyone uncomfortable.

"You'll have to excuse Cordelia, she's. . .we'll were still trying to figure out what she is exactly," Xander said, hoping joking would help to diffuse the situation.

"At least we don't have to figure you out, Xander. We all know how much of a loser you are."

Xander laughed uncomfortably. "Not everyone has to be saved from the Mayor, right? Right?"

Yay, more awkwardness. Time for the adults to step in before the children got out of hand.

"Well, to answer the lovely young lady's question, we're here to offer our assistance with your current predicament," Sirius said.

"That would be most helpful, thank you," Giles said, knowing how having wizards on their side, especially with Buffy and Faith's plan, would be of great help.

"Wait," Buffy said annoyed at the fact that everyone was just jumping on board with disregard to the amount of danger that was involved. "Everyone just. . .there's a lot of risk involved here. More than what I let you know before I left."

"We're used to risk," said Harry.

"And we're helping, no matter what it is," Neville said firmly.

They were used to risk, Buffy knew that, but this was a majorly different risk. It wasn't Philosopher's Stones and Department of Mysteries, it was saving the world, and that was a level that they were unfamiliar with. It wasn't that they didn't have the abilities, it was the overwhelming them that she had an issue with, the risks that they didn't know they faced, like the very real chance that they could actually die, for one thing.

"We could use their help, Buffy," Giles said, noting her uneasiness.

"They do have the fire power," said Faith.

Buffy turned to Willow and Xander. They knew the game, understood the peril involved, and they knew why she was fencing on the subject, but that didn't mean they agreed with her.

"We were newbies to this Hellmouth thing once ourselves, remember?" said Willow.

"Yea, and look how great we turned out," Xander added. "I'm even key guy on this one."

They did turn out great. They were amazing and brave and deserved way more than being stuck inside the library discussing saving a town that had tried to kill them so many times. They were proof to never underestimate anyone, no matter who they were or what they had done, because people can always surprise you. They were the reason Buffy put her faith in people.

And so with resigning sigh, Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and gave into peer-pressure.

"The Sunnydale seniors are graduating this afternoon, and in the middle of it the town's mayor will be ascending to full demon, and he will destroy this town, killing everyone in it unless we stop him," Buffy explained, her slayer mode switching into place.

Giles felt a swell of pride and nostalgia at seeing her command a room again. It was something he had missed.

"He is invincible until the time comes. However, once he has Ascended, he can be killed," he tacked on.

A hand shot in air and the Scoobies looked at the hand as if had grown extra fingers. Who raised their hand in this library?

"Yes, Miss. . .?" Giles asked, slightly taken aback.

"Granger, Sir."

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Do you know what sort of demon the Mayor will be Ascending to?"

"Unfortunately, no. We've been unable to pinpoint the exact species."

"Then how will we know how to stop him?"

It was amusing to watch new people react to Hermione. Harry and Ron even shared a smirk at the strange looks their hosts were giving her. After all, when it came to obtaining or providing knowledge, Hermione wasn't known to be shy.

"We've gotten information from a. . .reliable source," said Giles, giving a brief glance to Faith. "We were actually working out the details right before you came in. From what we've gathered, it seems that the remains of the demon he may be turning into had been found in a now dormant volcano, and we assume that is the amount of firepower it will take to stop him."

"A volcano?" asked Ron, and Giles nodded. "I've never been in this town before, but I'm sure you don't have those just lying around."

"No, but we got the next best thing," Faith replied with a smile that had Ron's cheeks color.

Buffy wasn't kidding when she said there was some heavy danger in play, and Sirius was starting to think life behind the Veil wouldn't have been so bad.

"Demons, volcanoes and destroying of towns," Sirius said quietly to Buffy. "Kinda makes you wish you had stayed dead, doesn't it?"

Buffy only rolled her eyes, but she wasn't the only one heard what supposed to be a private conversation.

"Stayed dead?" asked Angel. His tone and expression heavy with concern.

The room went quiet, and Buffy had a very 'uh-oh' feeling.

"Dead?" asked Giles, looking at Buffy with bewilderment. "Good lord. You died?"

"Again?"

"_Again?_"

Buffy was caught in the headlights. She looked between the very surprised Scoobies and the very shocked Wizards and was hoping the earth would just swallow her up right then and now.

"Hey! Books. With words," she said, pointing to the books on the library's table. "Books-with-words-that-talk-about-evil-mayors-who-wanna-become-large-scary-snake-demons-that-plan-to-kill-people-and-take-over-the-entire-world-can-I-talk-to-you-lot-over-here-for-a-second-thanks," she said in one breath, pushing her mother, Remus, Sirius, and Giles, the information people, into Giles's office, closed the door behind them and on a very stunned group of people. "I died?"

"So it would seem," Giles replied.

"You mean you didn't know? You didn't tell her?" asked Sirius.

"You didn't either," Remus countered.

Touché.

"Tell me what?" Buffy demanded.

It wasn't an easy thing to think about, your daughter dying, especially for the second time, which means it also wasn't an easy thing to try and explain.

"Well, when you went after Sirius. . .what happened was. . .you kind of. . ." Joyce staggered out.

"It's called the Veil of Death for a reason," Sirius said bluntly.

"The Veil of Death?" Giles asked, astonished at the strange turn of events. "You went through the Veil of Death?"

"Just for a minute. To bring him back," she said petulantly, nodding over to Sirius. "But what does that have to. . ." The equation added up and Buffy's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "You mean I died?"

"Didn't we already say that?" said Sirius.

"But. . .but. . ."

Died. She died. She was non-existent, unearth bound and no one told her until now?

As usual, when Buffy came across things she didn't understand, she looked to Giles, and even if he was in the midst of his own confusion, he tried to find answers as best he could.

"From my understanding, the Veil of Death is a threshold, a-a doorway if you will. It's a connection to the afterlife. . .for one to pass through it essentially means. . .dying."

"But I'm here. See. All alive and everything," she said, moving her hands emphatically to prove her point.

"Yes, Buffy, I can see that," he said, and leaned back on his desk. "Why don't you explain to me what happened."

And Buffy told him the whole twisted ordeal that resulted in her apparent dying. When she finished, Giles was in full watcher mode. He was chewing on the ends of his glasses again and was lost in his own little world.

"What is it, Giles? You have something face."

"Hm? Oh, yes," he said, snapping back to focus, placing the glasses back on his face. It was a conundrum he never thought come he'd come across. He may know of the Wizarding World and their bylaws, but he was in no means an expert. "According to my research, once you passed the Veil, that should've been it. Rope or not. By all intents and purposes, you shouldn't have been able to return."

"At all?" asked Buffy.

"Not from what I know."

"Then how did we?" asked Sirius.

"I-I'm not sure. It could be a number of things. Buffy being a slayer or the fact that she may have already died once may have given her some leeway. . .I wouldn't be sure of the mechanics of it," he explained. He knew they were straws but they were the only things that made some sense, and it was all he could give at the moment. "I'll look into it and let you know what I find."

Good old Giles, always there with his books that would have to wait until after their world-ending battle.

"Wait, if I died does that mean another slayer was called?" Buffy asked curiously.

Giles had thought about it, but if Buffy's death happened a week ago, he was positive the Council would've told him a new slayer had been activated by now, and they hadn't.

"I don't believe so. After your run in with the Master, and after Kendra's death, I believe the line now runs through Faith," he said, and looked over to the dark haired slayer.

"Oh, that's. . .well, there you go," Buffy said, not sure how she should feel about that.

"It doesn't mean you've been replaced, Buffy," said Giles, noting her displeasure.

"I know, but. . .it's the whole 'when one slayer dies the next one's called' thing. Kinda got used to that. I'm no longer the one, and I just. . ."

"Only child syndrome," said Joyce, and everyone seemed have understood Buffy's attitude by that statement alone, although Buffy's glare would disagree.

"Fine, whatever. Doesn't matter anyway, got a whole town to save and all that. And it has nothing to do because I'm an only child," she said, and opened the door, turning her back on some very amused adults.

"So how many times have you died exactly?" Ginny asked the minute Buffy reappeared from the office.

"What? Today?" she joked, but they were most definitely not amused, however, there wasn't time for this, not now. "Look, it's really not that big of a thing, and right now we've got other fish to fry, so let's leave Mother Goose for another day, okay?"

She was right. They would drop it for now, but that didn't mean they wouldn't start pestering her once this whole mess was over with.

As Buffy walked to the center of the room, she met Faith's eyes. A silent message passed, and the dark haired slayer joined her. Backs straight and stances firm, the slayers addressed their army, gearing them up for what was ahead.

"So, we all know what we're facing. The Mayor's got his plan, we got ours, and this is how it's going down," said Buffy, and gave Faith the lead.

"Some time during the graduation, Mayor Wilkins will ascend to demonhood. Since we don't know what kind of demon he'll be, we have to be prepared for anything. He'll kill anyone in his way. We can assume he's not going into this fight alone and he'll have his own people fighting for him."

"Vampires?" asked Hermione.

"Army of them," Faith replied.

"But it'll still be daylight out," said Willow.

"May be not," Giles said and picked up a book he had been reading that pertained to ascensions. "_Darkness will follow and day becomes night. . ._"

"An eclipse?" Buffy asked.

"Standard procedure for ascension."

"That puts me back into the game," said Angel, stepping forward.

"Yea, it does. You and Xander are going to have to work together now. Can you guys handle that?" Buffy asked.

"But I'm still key-guy, right?" Xander asked.

"Right."

"Then Angel, in his non key-guy capacity, can work with me."

"What fun," Angel said sarcastically.

"Hey! Key-guy is still talking. . ."

"Oh, that's good! Start bickering. That's going to look great for us. You guys are like little old ladies!"

The plans were underway. Everyone had their chores and they only had so much time to pull it together.

Schematics for the school were tacked to a board near Giles's office. Buffy, Faith, Xander, and Angel stood before them, studying the area's pros and cons.

"They'll be coming through the sewers," said Angel.

"Makes sense, what with the lack of daylight down there," Buffy replied.

"Think your sweatshop will make enough to go around?" asked Faith, turning to the library table where Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna, Ron and Harry were whittling some stakes.

"They better if they wanna keep everyone alive," she said and went to check on their progress.

When she passed by the stairway, where Sirius and her mother were packing away some items, Sirius stopped her.

"Are you going to tell them that they're able to use magic here?" he asked, nodding over to the huddle at the library table.

Buffy couldn't help but smile as she looked at the group struggle with their knives and pieces of wood. Some were even starting to sweat.

"They wanted to help, so they're helping," she said.

Sirius smiled. She could be a mean one when she wanted to be.

"How's it going?" Buffy asked the laborers, picking up a newly carved stake.

"I think I have about fifty splinters," said Ron.

"And the blisters to match," said Harry.

"How many more of these do we have to make?" asked Neville.

"I'll let you know," Buffy said smiling and he slumped deeper into his chair.

"By the way, I almost forgot to tell you," said Ginny, slicing off a good hunk of wood. "I like your trousers."

Everyone around the table looked at Buffy, or more specifically at Buffy's leather clad legs and Ron and Harry shifted a little in their seats.

"It's slayer standard," said Faith, who had come over for. . .well, just for the hell of it.

When the group was told that there were two slayers instead of the usual one, due to Buffy's short-lived yet undetailed demise, they took it in stride; Hermione, of course, had her questions, but that was Hermione. The wizards were still in the process of discovering the nuts and bolts of slayerhood, so everything was new information, which meant no matter how unusual that information was, who were they to overly question it?

"Leather's sturdier to fight in when you need to slay some serious demon," Buffy explained.

"Not to mention nice to look at," mumbled Ron under his breath.

"Thanks, Red," Faith told him with a wink and red was what he became.

Ginny placed down her knife and table leg to give her hands some rest and looked over to where Angel still stood by school's floor plans.

"So, that's Angel? As in ex-Angel?" she asked Buffy, and Buffy nodded a bit uncomfortably not liking where this might be headed. "Why would you ever break up with him?"

The girls, all the girls, took a second to admire Buffy's ex. All broad-shouldered, dark-haired, perfect build of him.

Neville, Harry and Ron pouted at the girls' dreamy admiration, sharpening the end of their stakes with a little more force. What was so great about Angel? He was just. . .just a guy! They were guys. They were even guys who were doing hard labour. And what kind of name was Angel anyway?

"B, does sure know how to pick 'em, doesn't she? Dead or undead," said Faith, having wondered time and again about Buffy's sanity of letting someone like Angel go.

"I'm sorry, but what does that mean exactly?" asked Hermione.

Taking in the girls' confusion and Buffy's panic-stricken look, Faith came to a conclusion.

"You didn't tell 'em, did you?"

"Faith," Buffy said in warning.

"They need to know who's on their team, B." Bullshit. And Faith's evil little grin was full of it, too. "Angel's a vampire."

Time seemed to have stopped. They waited for the punch-line. There was a punch-line, wasn't there?

Buffy avoided them, but the girls kept staring at her. It was uncomfortable and. . .what? Did they expect her to show bite marks or something?

"You dated a vampire?" Ginny exclaimed.

"You what?" the boys shouted.

"Shhh!" Buffy said.

Buffy looked over at Angel, they all did, but he kept on staring at the floor plans, but Buffy knew better. He heard it all, and Buffy reached a whole new level of embarrassment. Buffy didn't want or need her personal life out there for it to be gawked at or judged, especially if it was twined with Angel's privacy. She glared at Faith and her sister-slayer was looking at her nails as if nothing had happened, as if she had done nothing wrong. She was unbelievable.

"We, uh, we need more," Buffy said avoiding anyone's gaze. She dropped the stake she had been holding and walked away. She didn't have time to deal with high school drama right now.

"Maybe we should've been a little more discreet," said Hermione.

"Maybe we shouldn't have said anything, period," Ginny said, hacking away at her table leg again.

"Deep wounds are the hardest to heal, no matter how much time has passed," Luna said, calmly sharpening the end of what used to be the leg of a chair.

Faith sighed; maybe she should've kept her big fat mouth shut. She knew Buffy didn't want her to say anything and yet there she went and put B's public life on P.A. Nice one, F.

Buffy walked over to Willow and Oz, who were working on the library's circulation desk, due the lack of large space and looking through a myriad of books.

"So, how are we coming on volcano detail?" she asked.

"I think we can work it out," said Oz.

"Fun with chemistry," Willow cheerfully added.

"Xander said he should be able to get the materials," said Buffy, peeking at Angel out of the corner of her eyes.

"Who's going to stoke it up?" asked Oz.

Buffy turned to Giles, who had come up beside them. "You feel up to it?"

He took off his glasses. "Ah, I suppose it should be I. It's strangely fitting in a grotesque fashion."

"Okay," she said with a nod and looked at Oz and Willow. "Time to start reaching out, guys. Giles, weapons, weapons, weapons."

He gave a nod, and then they watched as Faith breezed by them towards the exit.

"Faith, where are you going?" Giles asked

"There's something I need to get," she said without turning around. "Be back in a few."

And then she was gone.

"Some space will be good," said Willow, not commenting on the fiasco that occurred minutes ago.

Buffy smiled briefly at Willow. Yeah, some space should be good. There were too many Slayer-mones running around the place.

"I'll need some help," said Giles.

"Sure. Remus! Tonks!" Buffy called out and the pair appeared from the behind the bookstalls. "Giles could use a hand, would you guys mind?"

"Not at all," said Remus, and Giles led them to the many hidden weapons scattered around the library.

"Xander!" Buffy called out.

Xander walked out from Giles's office and stood with the original Scoobies.

"What up, Buff?"

"You guys need to start reaching out to the student body. Get to 'em fast. We'll need to start handing out the goodies soon."

"Got it."

Xander, Oz and Willow left to spread the joy of war to the rest of Sunnydale High, and Buffy was left to deal with the odds and ends.

They had never seen her like this. Not even in the Department of Mysteries. She gave orders and took charge as easily as breathing. Even Mr. Giles followed lead. Was this how her life was before she returned to Hogwarts? How many battles had she fought before? How many times did she have to put her own feelings, her own safety aside to do what was necessary? For those who had never seen her like this, it was an extraordinary thing to watch, and a brand new level respect was held for Buffy.

"Not all men are alike."

"Take us for example."

"We look the same."

"May even sound the same."

"But I'm much better than Fred."

Buffy could hear the pickup lines even before she saw them. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea leaving them, Fred and George, alone with Cordelia.

"I've always been curious about twins," Cordelia's saucy voice asked.

Or maybe Buffy should've kept Cordelia away from them.

"How's it going?" Buffy asked, and Fred and George dropped the books in their hands as if they had just been caught doing something naughty.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. What was it with boys and Buffy? Not only Sunnydale, but England, too? What did she do? Put them under some kind of spell or something? She probably did, the little witch.

"It's going great."

"We were just helping Cordelia here."

"Pack all these books away."

"Such a beautiful woman shouldn't do all this work by herself."

"She's too delicate for that."

Buffy rolled her eyes, and she was tempted to do it again as Cordelia arched her eyebrow in victory.

"Just don't take too long, okay? Giles would kill us if we left even the scent of books behind," she said and walked back from once she came.

Cordelia turned to the Twins and smiled her million dollar smile. Maybe there was hope for them yet.

"Buffy, we're running out of material," Ginny said the moment she saw her.

Buffy walked over to the table and saw lots stakes, but not enough. Not enough for all the people at today's ceremony to pack heat. She walked over to the cage where Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were packing up and took one of the extra chairs moving to where there was enough space and, with one swoop against the floor, broke the chair into kindling. She picked them up, put them on the desk and broke apart some of the bigger pieces.

"Let me know if you need more," she said and turned to leave.

"Buffy," Ginny called out to her, but Buffy already knew what she was going to say.

"We're cool, no worries," she said, and smiled reassuringly.

"Cool," said Ginny with a smile of her very own.

"Buffy," Mrs. Weasley called out. Never an ending to a fore-battle day. "We seemed to be running out of room, is there somewhere we should be placing these?"

Mrs. Weasley was nearly surrounded by boxes holding Giles's ever important junk or as he put it, priceless artifacts.

"We should be probably start stacking them up Giles's flat. Mom!" Buffy called out, and her mother made her way over. She was the only other person who knew where Giles lived and could Apparate without suspicion. "Could you please Apparate them to Giles's so they'll know where to pop in and out of?"

"Yes. Of course."

Joyce took a hold of Mrs. Weasley who took a hold of Mr. Weasley and in the next second they were gone.

"Aw man, did I miss magic?" Xander asked, entering the library, barely catching a glimpse of Mrs. Summers before she disappeared.

"Sorry, Xan, should've been quicker. On the bright side you'll be seeing plenty of magic tonight."

"Why, Buff, I never thought you'd offer," he said, placing an arm around her shoulders.

"You couldn't handle my magic if you tried," she said.

"Give me a try and I'll let you know," he said, and she gently elbowed him in the stomach.

"How'd it go?" she asked, and his groan said it all. "That bad, huh?"

"You try talking to Harmony and see how you come out."

"I think I'd rather face the Mayor."

"In that case, Buff. It's your lucky day!"

They day wore on a little longer and bit by bit, the library was getting lighter. The room was nearly empty, save for the cadre of weapons, boxes and the people who were heading it all.

Oz and Willow were out passing out the flammable goodies and instructions on where to place the ingredients for the bonfire to end all bonfires. Xander was going over his final battle plans with Sirius and the Twins, who had always known about strategy and were putting it to constructive use this time. Neville, Ron and Harry were helping Mr. Weasley take boxes to Giles's apartment. Ginny and Cordelia were still packing up. Mrs. Summers, Mrs. Weasley, Luna and Hermione were going over spells that would be the most efficient and easily learned for the battle, and Faith had finally shown up after getting whatever it was that needed to be gotten.

"Did you get what you needed?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah, I did," Faith asked, not commenting on the large knife that she held in her hand.

"Okay," she said with a nod, and let the tension remain for now. "Xander wants to run some things by you. Everyone knows where they'll be when it happens. He'll want your opinion on it and where you think you'd have the most advantage."

Faith only nodded and went to the designated War Room/Corner to be filled in what she had missed.

In times of war, prepare for strain because it will happen. As long as they made it out alive, strain could be her new nickname for all Buffy cared. Walking past Xander and the others, Buffy went into Giles's office and looked at the weapons sitting on his desk.

"It's not enough," Angel said, placing a battle ax next to a mace.

"Giles took Remus and Tonks to bring back some more," she said.

"How are you holding up?"

"Just really want this day to be over with."

"I know the feeling."

He picked up a blade that had been sitting on the desk chair, and as his eyes lowered. he noticed something shiny on Buffy's right hand. Without realizing it, he gently grabbed a hold of it and brought it closer to his face. Buffy's eyes widened when she realized she had left the Claddagh ring on and, most importantly, that the heart was facing in.

With another pop, the moving men were back again. How much junk did this library have? Without a word, they all went to the nearest box they could find, and as Harry bent down to pick one up, he caught sight of Angel and Buffy in Mr. Giles's room and they were holding hands. His throat tightened and something hot ran down his back.

"Harry? Harry?"

Realizing Mr. Weasley had been calling him, he quickly turned away and faced him.

"Yes, sorry," he said, and picked up the box. The last thing he saw was Buffy and Angel looking at their clasped hands before he disappeared from the room again.

Buffy knew she should pull her hand away, really she did, but having Angel so close, making her feel so calm pushed all that should away.

"Last night, I was. . .I-I was looking at it and. . ."

They shouldn't be doing this. They were supposed to be a touch-free zone, Angel knew that, and that's why he had to force himself to let go. He admitted to himself that he was glad Buffy was disappointed by his actions, but then he chastised himself for being so greedy. He knew it was hard for her knowing they could never be together, just like it was hard for him, but they could at least allow themselves the memories and that's why he still carried his Claddagh ring in his pocket every day.

"So, um, okay. More weapons on the way and then we'll be good," she said, and turned to leave.

"Buffy," he said and she paused, waiting for some heart-wrenching explanation about why they still shouldn't be together. "Your friends, your family. . .they're really good people. I'm glad to know you have them in your life. Having known them will make me worry less when you're not around."

Heart-warming, not heart-wrenching and, if possible, he was making her fall just a little bit more.

"Thanks,"she said turning to him.

He smiled and nodded and went back to the weapons at hand, but he wasn't done talking just yet.

"Especially Sirius. I think it was a good decision to go after him, I see how much he means to you."

"You seem to be the only who. . .wait, how did you. . .?" He was ignoring her on purpose, and Buffy knew exactly how he knew. "You heard me telling Giles about Veil-gate," she said, amused more than anything.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. But supernatural hearing. . .I am a vampire after all," he said, a teasing smile on his lips and Buffy couldn't help a small laugh.

Everything was cleaned of books and things. All weapons had arrived. Everyone was present and accounted for, well except for Willow and Oz, where were they?

"All this work shot my nails to hell," Cordelia complained, studying her cuticles by the window with the most natural light like the princess she was. "If we don't die today, someone's going to pay for my mistreatment."

"That tone sound familiar to you, George?" said Fred, from the other side of the room.

"Very familiar, but I can't quite place my finger on it."

They looked pointedly to their left where Buffy stood with the most condescending smiles on their lips.

"Shut up," she snapped and walked away. She was never that bad. Was she?

Students had streamed in out of the library. Tucking weapons into their pockets, underneath their graduation gowns, in their bags, anywhere they could hide them.

"Thanks," Cordelia said, taking the stake and crossbow from a pink faced Neville, completely unaware or uncaring of his reaction to her.

"Y-y-you're w-welcome," he said nervously, and quickly walked away.

Soon every last piece of weaponry was called for and the non-muggle people were wondering how the hell they were supposed to defend themselves with not even a stake in sight.

"What about us?" asked Harry.

"Don't we get weapons?" asked Ron.

"You have weapons," Buffy replied, taking out her wand and spinning in it in the palm her hand to make her point.

"But we're underage. We're not allowed to use magic outside of school," said Hermione.

"You can in Sunnydale. Heavy mystical energy provides great coverage."

They froze. Sorry, what?

"You mean we've been able to use magic this whole time and you made us do everything by hand?" Ron asked, irritated, and he wasn't the only one.

"You wanted to help," she said flippantly, and stepped away from them toward Remus and Mr. Weasley.

"They might just let you die today, you do realize that," said Remus, looking at all the bitter faces.

"I think it's good that they did a bit work," said Mr. Weasley. "Helps build up the muscles."

"See, he gets me," Buffy said.

"Well, let's get them out of here before they get you dead," Remus said.

Buffy ignored all the bitter faces that passed by her on their way to out, but whatever, they could kill her after they made it out of this alive.

"That was a good one," Fred told her, giving her a small slap on the back as he passed, and George winked right before he slipped through the library doors. See, they got her, too.

"See you out there," Xander told her, the next to leave, taking Cordelia with him.

Angel glanced over at Faith who was pacing by the table, tapping the end of her knife against her palm.

"I got it," Buffy told him.

"Stay safe," he said, and then he was gone.

"Ready to say goodbye?" Buffy asked Giles, who was hanging on to the last bits of library air.

"Yes, yes, I think I am," he told her, and looked at her, nostalgia glittering in his eyes. "I'm really glad you came. Despite the circumstances."

"Be here in a snap anytime, cause you know, I can do that," she said.

Giles smiled. Of course she could, and he was glad for that.

Buffy watched as he walked over to Faith. Her arms had crossed over her chest, in complete defensive mode, but Buffy could see that whatever Giles said got to her and she was a whole lot calmer after Giles left to take his position.

"Ready to party?" Faith asked, as she breezed by her.

"Faith," Buffy said, not moving from her spot.

It was Faith. Faith was Mayor Wilkins' weakness. The Scoobies had come up with a brilliant, if flawed plan, that Faith would play double spy. She pretended to cross over to the dark side after that Deputy Mayor incident, and the Mayor fell for it and took her in. She did his bidding (to an extent that never crossed the murder line), she gained his trust, and she relayed everything she knew back to the home team. But what nobody expected was how close they would become. The paternal instinct kicked in and Mayor Wilkins began to think of Faith as a daughter, and her craving for a father figure began to take shape in Wilkins. He showered her with gifts, including that wicked knife she was currently holding, and affection, and it killed her when she realized she had to let him go before it got too deep and she wouldn't be able to do her job. She had dropped the hammer the day before yesterday, she waited until the last minute, and she nearly escaped with her life. But she healed fast, at least physically, emotionally. . .well, today would hopefully take care of that and Faith hoped she would never have to go through that again.

"I'm good, B. I made my choice," she said, not facing her. "I know what I have to do, and I'm jumping on it full force."

Faith didn't need flowery words of encouragement. Buffy realized she needed to close herself off for what she was about to do and the least she could do was respect it.

"Good," Buffy said.

Faith's shoulders relaxed and she turned her head round, a rare genuine smile on her face.

"See you after the parade."

The quad was filled with people: graduates, parents, family members, undergrads and wizards, most of them waiting nervously for what was to come.

"Congratulations to the class of 1999. You all proved more or less adequate. This is a time of celebration, so: sit still and be quiet," said Principal Snyder.

"Friendly little thing, isn't he?" said George.

"Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll get eaten," Xander joked, earning a reproachful eye from Buffy.

Oz and Willow sneaked into the visitor's section just as Snyder finished his _heart-warming_ speech and took seats next to Buffy and the others.

"Am I late? Did we fight?" she asked, and one look at Willow's dishevelled appearance and Buffy knew exactly where she and Oz had been, and who was she to pass judgment on Willow's stolen piece of happiness before a war?

The Mayor stepped up to the podium with a smile and cue cards in hand. Buffy and Faith glanced at each other knowing the time was closer.

"Well. What a day this is! Special day. Today is our centennial, the one hundred anniversary of the founding of Sunnydale, and I know what that means to all you kids, not a darn thing. Because today something much more important happens: today you all graduate from high school. Today all the pain, all the work, all the excitement is finally over. And what's a hundred years of history compared to that? You know what, kids…?"

"Oh my god," Buffy grimaced. "He's going to do the entire speech."

"Man, just ascend already," said Willow.

"Evil!"

". . .for all of you it may be that there is a place in Sunnydale's history, whether you like it or not. It's been a long road getting here. For you. . .for Sunnydale. There has been achievement, joy, good times. . .and there has been grief. There's been loss." He paused as he spotted Faith in the crowd, and she met him eye for eye. There was no turning back now. "Some people who should be here today. . .aren't. But we are. Journey's end. And what is a journey? Is it just. . .distance traveled? Time spent? No. It's what happens on the way, it the things that happen to you. At the end of the journey you're not the same. Today is about change. Graduation doesn't just mean your circumstances change, it means you do. You ascend. . .to a higher level. Nothing will ever be the same. Nothing."

A shadow had fallen upon the grounds, and everyone looked up to see that the sun had been completely blocked out.

Even as he tried to proceed with his speech, the Mayor began to flinch in pain. He screamed and grabbed the podium as he felt the change.

"It has begun. My destiny," he said smiling. "It's a little sooner then I expected; I had this whole section on civic pride. . .But I guess we'll just skip to the big finish!"

The masses watched horrified as the Mayor started to stretch and grow. His suit split around him and slowly he transformed into a big snake-like demon with clawed mandibles surrounding its mouth. It kept growing, stretching higher as many abandoned their seats while graduates, some students and certain visitors stayed in place staring up at the Mayor, who had stretched up above the roof of the school.

"NOW!" Faith yelled.

Graduates took off their gowns and the Scoobies removed their jackets, revealing crosses, axes, and other assorted weaponry, and the wizards brought out the strongest weapons in their arsenal, their wands.

"Flame units!" Buffy ordered. Several students pointed their flame throwers at the Mayor, and the most experienced wizards pointed their wands, and together they shot out flames that caused the Mayor to scream and writhe in pain.

Buffy nodded over to Xander for his cue.

"First wave!" he said, a group of students loaded their cross bows and set their target. "Fire!"

The Mayor screamed again at the onslaught of arrows that pierced his skin. He lunged down and started to snack on the students that were seated in the first row. Everyone grimaced at the sight and some of the students started running away.

"This. . .this is simply unacceptable!" Principal Snyder shouted, trying to gain futile control.

Oz turned to the directions where some of the students had fled. He saw them run down the stairs and right into a group of waiting vampires who had not given them one ounce of mercy and killed them before they even had a chance.

"Xander?" he said.

Xander turned and set his sights toward the new target.

"Arm bow men!"

Oz and some of the students picked up long bows and arrows. Harry, Neville and the rest aimed their wands and remembered the spell they just learned. The vampires slowly moved up the steps as the kids lit their arrows on fire and took aim.

"Fire!"

A mass of fiery arrows and small balls of fire hit their targets and the vampires turned into piles of dust.

Xander turned back at the students in front of the Mayor and watched as Jonathan soared through the air and landed on top of other students knocking them down.

"Fall back!" Buffy told those around her.

At the sight of even more fire pointed in their direction, the vampires turned to leave but they soon found themselves confronted by another group of fighters led by Angel and these fighters weren't about to pull any punches. They stormed in and hit and staked any soulless demon in their path.

The sky was alight with fire and screams. The sound of fighting filled the grounds of a David and Goliath war.

"This is not orderly. This is not discipline!" Snyder shouted, and looked up to the Mayor. "You're on my campus, buddy! And when I say I want quiet, I want. . ."

They watched in horror as the Mayor lowered his head and swallowed Snyder whole. Buffy looked to Xander and when he turned to her she could see the shocked look on his face. Yeah, no more jokes about people being eaten, no sir.

"Fall back! Get back!" Faith shouted to those around her, and turned to Buffy. "Go!"

Buffy hesitated, but this one was Faith's and Buffy knew she had to hand over the reins.

"Good luck," she said and left.

"Xander, take 'em down," Faith ordered.

"Everyone! Hand to hand!" he shouted, taking out a stake from his pocket. "Everyone! Let's go! Move! Move!"

With a punch, Angel sent a vampire flying, and letting the demon out to play, he took care of two more. His group was driving the vampires back up the steps, and foolishly the vampires thought that meant better killing ground.

"Get the kids!" one of them yelled.

The other vampires turned to follow his lead and were surprised to find themselves confronted with a mass of angry people armed to the T that were running down the steps.

"Alright, kiddies time to play!" shouted Fred, excited to finally get dirty and ran off to the fight.

"Fred!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, but it was too late, Fred was lost in the crowd. "George, go help him!" she ordered, and he went off. "Ginny! Ginny! Stay close to me and dad!"

Ginny did as she was told, but that didn't mean she wasn't going kick some serious demon arse because of it. She shot a spell at the nearest bloodsucker, and when she saw Cordelia stake one, Ginny couldn't wait to do the same.

Xander kept a military eye on the chaos around him even as he struggled with his own vampire attack.

"Right flank close in! Close!" Exasperated, he pushed the vampire away. "Jason! Paul! You guys are right flank!"

Harry spotted a vampire biting the neck of some blonde girl and when he saw it drop her, he knew it was too late, but that didn't mean he couldn't stop it from hurting someone else and he shot out arrows from his wand towards the vampire's direction until it turned to dust.

"This is madness!" shouted Ron, tossing off spells.

"I didn't-!" Hermione began, shooting blue light from her wand toward a vampire. "I didn't think it would be this chaotic!"

A vampire came rushing at Hermione, and Harry lunged on instinct. He'd never gotten into a real fight before, especially not with a vampire with super strength. Harry was holding his own, but the vampire was quicker and just as it was about to knock Harry to the ground, Buffy had come out of nowhere and blindsided the vampire with a hit to its temple. It was intense watching her fight. The kicks, the punches, the fluid motions. Buffy and the vampire brawled until Buffy got the upper hand and then held the vampire's hands behind its back. She needed them to get their hands dirty. To show them that you can't always fight from a distance.

"Stake him!" she shouted.

Harry shoved his wand into the vampire's heart without a second thought, and two seconds after he pulled it out, the vampire exploded into dust.

"One gone," said Buffy, dusting off her hands, "and a lot more to go."

Another vampire had appeared beside Ron and from the adrenaline rush of having so much anarchy around him, he moved back at the kick headed for his head, Ron threw a punch that mimicked Buffy's, he quickly came back from the fist that had hit his stomach, kicked the vampire in the shin, but then the vampire got really aggressive and Buffy knew she had to step in. She threw a right cross then hit the vampire with a left and just as it lost its balance Buffy plunged her wand into the vampire's heart turning to dust.

And then Buffy turned to Ron with a raised eyebrow, impressed at his raw fighting skill.

"That was. . .really good. He was a fledgling, but still. . ."

"That was. . .wicked," he said with an excited grin. "Alright, let's kill some more of the bloody things."

Looks like someone definitely had his battle-training wheels taken off and he wasn't the only one.

Fred and George were having one heck of a good time. They punched and kicked and staked things, loving every bit of it. Neville and Luna had joined them and though it had been frightening and overwhelming at first, adrenaline had kicked in and the foursome made one formidable team.

"Longbottom!" called George, and Neville blasted away the vampire he was dealing with and turned to where George was currently dealing with two particularly nasty vampires of his own.

Neville made to move when a vampire had suddenly come up behind him and placed an around his neck, choking him. Neville grabbed at the arm and tried to get it to release him, but it was too strong and he fought desperately to breathe, and just as he was beginning to see stars, the arm disappeared and Neville leaned forward, coughing and gasping for air.

"Neville, are you alright?" Mrs. Summers asked, placing a hand on his back.

He nodded, and quickly remembered about George.

"George, he. . .he had two. . .against. . ."

"He got help," she said, and Neville glanced over to see that Angel was currently dispatching one of George's attackers.

It had been while since Sirius had been in a good brawl and it definitely pumped up the blood in his system.

"Just like old times, eh?" said Sirius, drop kicking a vamp.

"When was this ever old times?" Remus replied, avoiding a punch to the head.

"Why can't you just play along?"

"Sorry if I seem a little preoccupied with not dying!"

Remus sensed a vampire behind him, and he heard it run at full speed, and just as it was getting closer, Remus whipped around and hit him square in the chest that sent him flying overhead.

"That's better," Sirius grinned, and Remus smiled, it was good to let the wolf come out, but only when involved in demon wars of course.

They dropped like bowling pins. Buffy tossed that vampire into the nearest cluster of vamps that she could find and knocked them down. She moved forward and took advantage of their disorientation. It was a free for all and Oz, Willow and Tonks grabbed and disposed of whatever vampires they could get.

"Hey!" Faith shouted, grabbing the Mayor's attention. "Remember this?" She defiantly held up the knife he had given her. "I was thinking of trashing it along with all that other junk you gave me." She sneered as she looked at it. "It looks like the kinda cheap crap you find at yard sales." Faith scoffed and looked back to him with a challenging expression. "Maybe I could sell it for scrap metal. What do you think, Dick?"

The Mayor gnashed his teeth and growled. He swooped down, but Faith was quicker. She shot towards the school. She burst through the doors and wove through the halls as the Mayor barreled through anything in his way after her. Faith kept her speed all the way to the library and as she vaulted over the library's banister, she looked back at the Mayor who had stopped inside the room and looked at all the stacked barrels of fuel and large sacks that were spread out.

"Well, gosh," he said, in his guttural voice.

Faith jumped out the window and crouched next to Giles and with a firm hand he pushed down the plunger.

A fire cloud erupted from atop of the school, rumbling the ground. Everyone stopped their fighting, surprised by the explosion, of its sounds and sights. Some shielded their eyes from the brightness and some couldn't tear their eyes away. There were shared smiles of relief and there was a deep sense of accomplishment. It was an amazing sight to behold; it was the fiery end to a rather tumultuous beginning and everyone watched as Sunnydale High burned.

It was over. Whatever vampires had been left ran off. The Mayor was fried to a crisp. Some lives had been lost, and some people had been left a little damaged, but it was over.

"Two out of three. That's gotta be some sort of record," said Xander.

"Some people sew. Some people fish. I help burn down schools," Buffy said with a smile.

They passed police cars, ambulances and fire trucks that were tending to the wounded and trying their hardest to find some sort plausible explanation for what happened. Currently, they were leaning heavily toward faulty gas lines and gangs on PCP.

"We got off pretty cheap. . .considering," he said.

"Seems like we did," she replied looking over to her slightly injured wizarding clan.

"They're real champs for their first time out."

"Yeah," she said, looking at them proudly.

Xander smiled at her admiration. Even after all the ups and downs, deceits and heartbreak, Buffy never lost her faith in people. It's always nice to see that sometimes that faith wasn't for naught. He patted her shoulder and then he went off to where the rest of the Scoobies stood, lightly grazed in injuries.

"Are you all right?" asked Giles coming up next to her.

"I'm tired."

"I should imagine so. It's been quite a long day."

"I haven't processed everything yet. My brain isn't really functioning on the higher levels. It's pretty much: fire bad; tree pretty."

"Understandable. Well, when it's working again, congratulate it on a good campaign. You and Faith did very well."

Buffy nodded. "Thank you. I will."

Giles took a deep breath and looked around.

"There is a certain dramatic irony that's attached to all this. A Synchronicity that borders on. . .on predestination, one might say."

Buffy stared at him. "Fire bad; tree pretty."

"Yes, s. . .sorry." He looked over her shoulder for a moment and then smiled down at her. "I'm going to see how your friends are doing."

Curious, Buffy watched him walk off, and then she felt it. The Angel tingle. She turned around and found herself face to face with the source of that tingle.

"Hey," she greeted first.

"Hey."

"Glad to see you made it out in one piece."

"Same here, although it seems that you're a little worse for wear," he said, gently touching the already closed gash on her forehead.

"We can't all be in mint condition, now can we?"

Harry tried to ignore it, but he couldn't help looking at the pair of them. Standing so close. Looking so comfortable. His hand on her forehead. For two people who were no longer in a relationship, they sure seemed to be rather intimate.

"If I had known this is what would've happened, I would've never let Ginny or any of you come," Mrs. Weasley said to all the teenagers, her arm wrapped tightly around her daughter.

"I think they all did splendidly," said Mr. Weasley, and at his wife's glare, he knew it was best to leave it that.

"They did do splendidly. I must say they did extraordinarily well," Giles said. "All of you did. I want to thank you for your assistance. It was of great help."

"No need. In a strange and bizarre way, it was rather exhilarating," said Sirius.

"Yes, fighting to death does bring that out, doesn't it?"

Buffy and Angel spoke for a little longer, and Harry kept a fleeting eye on them from the last longing look they shared as they separated up to when she came over to stand with them.

Knowing Buffy wanted some time alone before they left, Gilles made his excuses and walked off to get some very well deserved rest.

"So, enjoy your crash course in war?" she asked.

"It was definitely an experience," said Ginny tiredly.

"Got one good thing out of it," said Fred.

"Oh, yeah, what's that?" asked Buffy.

He wrapped an arm around her and stared at the ruins that used to be Sunnydale High.

"Thanks to you, we got to blow up a bloody school!"

"Fred," Mrs. Weasley admonished, but it didn't extinguish the enjoyment that Fred or any of the others felt at the fact they helped blow up a bloody school.

"After how much I slept already, I didn't think I'd be this exhausted," said Neville, and the others readily agreed.

"Kicking some major demon butt can do that to you," Buffy said.

"I'm ready to curl myself into a ball right here and call it a night," said Tonks.

"Hear, hear," Ron lazily agreed.

"There isn't a reason to stay any longer is there? There's not much we can do now," Hermione said, glancing at the multitude of people being taken care of by paramedics.

"Everything does seem to be taken care of. We've all said our goodbyes, I think it'll be alright if we left," said Remus, and those who sat on the ground gathered themselves up.

"Ready to go?" Ginny asked Buffy, making sure she had said goodbye to her friends before they left.

Buffy looked to her mother and the rest of the adults, and they suspiciously looked away which meant they didn't tell them. Sure, they spill the beans on Sunnydale's near-apocalypse but keep mum on the way less serious subjects.

"Actually I'm not going back," she said. "I've decided to stay."

"Stay?" asked Harry.

"Yeah, I guess I missed Sunnydale a little more than I thought. I talked it over with my mom and she thinks it's a good idea."

"So, you're not coming back?" asked Neville, and she shook her head.

Buffy was staying, but everything was going great. Fences were mended. She had a place that would be left empty if she stayed. Why didn't. . .why would she want to stay?

"But what about Hogwarts?" asked Ginny. "What about us? You know, your friends?"

Buffy realized they had misconstrued her words, hence their not so happy expressions, maybe she should've worded things a little better.

"I'm only staying for the summer – not from now on," she clarified, and they paused as it sank in and then slumped in relief.

"Could've said that in the first place," Ginny said, and Buffy shrugged.

"Will your mum be staying as well?" asked Luna, looking from mother to daughter.

"She'll be staying later, for now it'll just be me," she replied. "I'm gonna bunk it at Willow's, but you guys can come and visit anytime. Given parental permission, of course."

The thought of visiting Sunnydale for non-world-ending purposes sounded appealing, especially with the fact that underage wizards could use magic without being detected.

"I always thought our lives lacked a good amount of California sun," said Fred.

"Can we come and visit again soon?" Ginny asked her parents.

"We'll talk about it when we get home," said Mrs. Weasley.

It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't exactly a no either, so hope was good.

"We should get going," said Remus. "If I know Mad-Eye, he's still waiting at Headquarters to see if we made it back alive."

"You don't think he'll be angry, do you?" asked Hermione.

"Why? Because we didn't wait for him and instructed a house-elf to tell him that we've gone over to Sunnydale because we wanted to help stop a battle that would destroy the town and have taken Harry with us, our only hope in stopping Voldemort and there was a good chance that none of us would make out alive? Nah, I don't think so," said Sirius to the amusement and annoyance of his party.

"Sarcasm is just a way of life for you, isn't it?" Buffy said.

"It's my whole belief system."

Buffy jokingly gave him the stink eye, and he pulled her into a hug.

"Stay safe, Goldilocks."

"Always do, Snuggles."

They smiled as they pulled apart, and her mother moved right in.

"Call me at least once every other day to let me know you're okay."

"Mom, you don't have a phone."

"I'll install one."

Joyce gave her daughter one last squeeze and stepped aside to give Remus his turn.

"Be careful."

"I will."

There was some more huggage for those who were comfortable with it and some smiles and goodbyes for those who weren't.

"Be careful and don't do anything stupid," said Buffy.

"Says the girl who's staying on the Hellmouth," Ginny said.

"You know what I mean."

"We'll make a deal. You stay safe. We'll stay safe," Neville said.

Buffy gave a nod. "Scout's honor."

"I rather like this place," said Luna gazing around her. "There's so much untapped mystery."

"That's better left unstirred," Buffy said in warning tone, knowing how sticking your hand in a label-less jar can get you stung. "I'll see you guys in a few months or days depending on whether you'll be able to visit or not," she said as she hugged each one of them.

"Buffy, seriously, please be careful," Ginny said, worry heavy in her eyes.

"Always am," she replied assuredly.

The three turned back with farewells smiles on their faces and Buffy turned to the last goodbye.

"You know, all of today should prove something to you," she said to Harry. "When your world's in danger you'll do anything to defend it even when you don't think you stand a chance, even if you're not the one predestined to save it."

The students today knew they were facing the impossible - normal human beings against vampires and a demon - but they fought with every ounce of conviction they held; even if it meant sacrificing their own lives for the greater good. It was determination Harry had never seen, it still left his mind reeling, but there was a very big difference between what happened today and what Buffy was trying to tell him.

"But I'm the only one who can stop him," he said referring to Voldemort and the prophecy.

"But he won't be working alone. He'll have his people," she said and looked over to the small group of fighters ready to go home, and Harry followed her gaze. "And you have yours. People are a lot stronger than you think, Harry. You won't be able to handle everything on your own; you'll need to trust them."

When you've spent over half your life having no one to look after you except yourself, it's not easy to ask for help, and when you found something that is yours, something that's full of love and happiness, when you've deprived of it for so long, your natural instinct is to protect it as much as you can. Harry knew what Buffy was trying to get him to understand, but he had to admit he didn't really agree with it just yet.

He faced her again, and saying goodbye or have a nice summer seemed oddly redundant, so instead he settled on what he wanted to say the most.

"Don't forget to write."

"Me? Never," she said with a smile that he returned.

Harry joined the rest of the leaving party and Buffy stood there as they all smiled and waved before they disappeared in a pop. It left her feeling strangely lonely. When she had returned to Hogwarts, no one would've cared if she jumped off the Astronomy Tower, and today she had people who risked their lives to fight for something that was important to her. There was so much, so many people against her when she first arrived, it wasn't an easy road to overcome, but it was worth it and she had gained more than she had ever imagined. Buffy couldn't help but laugh a little as she thought about it all, what a twisted year this had been and one of the longest in her life. God only knew how next year was going to be.

"Well, that's the most fun you can have without having any fun," said Cordelia.

"How about the part where we kicked some demon ass? I didn't hate that," Willow said smiling as Oz stroked her hair from behind.

"Hear, hear!" said Xander from his spot on the ground.

Buffy heard them as she went over join the other half of her family circle that was mingling at the broken stone benches by the front of the school. She stopped just next to Faith and noticed the brunette's brooding expression.

"How you feeling? Five by five?"

She shrugged. "Two by four."

They both smiled slightly and left it at that.

"Everyone all gone?" asked Willow and Buffy nodded.

"Gotta tell ya, meeting your wizarding folk throws a whole wrench in my whole stuffy British impression of all things Englandish," said Xander.

"They're good people," Buffy said, knowing Xander's comment was meant as a compliment.

"I liked them," said Oz.

"Are they going to visit over the summer?" Willow asked.

"Hopefully." Buffy looked around, and seeing all the damage, there was one question that came to mind. "So what's gonna happen now? Do you think they'll transfer you guys to different schools or something?"

Oz looked over to where some school officials were still talking to the police. "Word on the street is that we may be set up in trailers."

"Great, we're going to be left like a bunch of homeless people," Cordelia grumbled.

Hardly, but it wasn't exactly the best of situations. The Scoobies still had one more year of high school to go and since they had turned that high school into bits, it left them transients of a higher learning building. Not the best way to spend what was supposed to be the greatest year of your high school life, but that's what you get when you blow up your own school.

"Well, I think we've done pretty much all we can here. You guys wanna take off?" Buffy asked.

"I'm for it," said Cordelia.

"I could definitely use some sleep, yo," Faith said, stretching her arms above her head.

"Tell me about it. If someone could just wake me when it's September, that'd be great," said Buffy.

They picked themselves up and walked off; leaving the cleanup to Sunnydale's finest.

"Gotta tell you, B, saving the world. . .not as kick back as you made it sound."

"You're still a newbie. Wait until you die your first time. It's all cake after that."

"I hope this blaze of glory sends a message to all the hell-raisers out there."

"No kidding. Why do demons even come here anymore? I mean, don't they know. . ."

The End

* * *

Notes: Above all..THANK YOU! For the fact that you kept reading, for all the reviews, for putting up with my lengthy story telling, and for enjoying the story. We've reached the promiseland people! Seriously, it was like freakin' marathon :)

An extra pinch of thanks for all my fanart artists and their brilliant creativity.

Extra dose of thanks to Andrea for starting the Beta train and many, many thanks to Annie for taking it those many extra miles :)

And as my thank you to everyone please enjoy my UnExpected (FanFic) video on YouTube


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